Round Robin: A Victorian Tale
by SMWW Yahoo Group
Summary: A DC Elseworlds story set in Victorian England, with a focus on Diana and Clark. Each chapter, 19 in total, has been written by a different author. Please visit our profile for more information about this fic. Superman/Wonder Woman pairing.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One (Hellacre)

"Kent! Captain White wants you!"

Inspector Clark Kent of the London Metropolitan Police looked up from his perusal of a report he had just completed and pushed his rounded spectacles up the bridge of his nose. His colleague P.C. Olsen was waggling his thumb in the direction of their superior's office.

Kent said, glancing at the wall clock meaningfully, "I am officially off duty James...."

"He does not care, does he? You'd better go in there before he ruptures his spleen. He's got some fancy looking folk in there with him..."

Kent sighed and stood his six foot three inch frame up. He knew his Captain too well to ignore his bidding. He also knew when "fancy" folk appeared it meant that some influential higher up individual was pulling in a favour for someone. Money and politics always spoke louder than the law and justice. He went to the door of the office and knocked.

A voice bellowed, "Who is that now? Olsen, didn't I ask you to tell Kent to get in here?!"

Kent opened the door to see his silver haired Captain standing near his desk with a male figure at his side. White was in some quiet discussion with the stranger, and he looked over his shoulder to see who had entered.

He said impatiently, "Oh, it is you. Come in and shut that door! It is drafty!"

Kent obeyed and stood silently, waiting to be told why he had been summoned. The stranger with whom White was earnestly conversing stood with his back to Kent. He was tall and broad-shouldered and wore a coat of the finest cut and quality. When the Captain said, "Clark has been with the force for seven years. I trust him....." The stranger turned to regard him briefly. Kent guessed that the man, from his highly polished boots to his finely tied cravat, was one of wealth and consequence.

Captain White confirmed it with the introduction. "Inspector Kent, this is his lordship, Bruce Wayne, Earl of Gotham. My lord, this is Clark Kent...one of my most experienced officers."

The Earl gave him a cursory glance, his dark blue eyes narrowed; he seemed to judge and dismiss Kent at once. He opened his thin lips and his voice was a rich, bored drawl, "Experienced does not mean capable, Captain."

"Oh, I assure you, sir, Kent has a good record. He played an integral part in solving the Blue Fields murders, you know."

Wayne quirked his brow. "Indeed?"

The whole of England was aware of that case and had followed it in the press for months. The killer had been caught and hanged only a fortnight ago.

The Earl remarked, "The murder of street sellers for cadavers is one thing...the protection of my betrothed is another."

Kent looked at him unimpressed and said ironically, "Perhaps you may be kind enough to explain the difference, sir."

"Riff-raff in the alleyways of east London are bound to end up in a sorry situation...they court disease and death daily...but my fiancée has been living in the safest, most affluent part of the city, with servants and chaperons around her since her arrival to London a month ago. Yet despite all this, she is not safe...someone is after her."

White explained further seeing that his colleague looked no more enlightened, "Lord Wayne's betrothed has had several attempts on her life; the last one being yesterday, when a chaise and four tried to run her over in Bond street."

Lord Wayne gestured to the high backed chair that faced the grate-fire. "Mr Kent, my fiancée, Miss Diana Prince. My dear, do allow the inspector to make your acquaintance."

Kent saw a tall, slender figure rise from the chair and turn to face him. He felt a heat in his cheeks and fidgeted with the collar of his unfashionably cut jacket self-consciously. The face beneath the muslin hat with blue ribbons and white roses regarded him curiously; eyes the colour of cornflowers peered out from under high arched brows and long silken lashes. Like her fiancée she was richly attired; but the olive tone of her skin, the blue-black gloss in her hair, the fullness of her lips, and the musical accent of her voice suggested she was not a native.

"Good day to you, Mr. Kent," she said with self assured but prim expression.

He could only bow stiffly and manage, "Miss Prince."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two (Ronnie K)

Judging by the faint upturn at the corners of her lips, Miss Prince had experienced this reaction to her appearance before. What she hadn't experienced before was how quickly he recovered himself. Admirable, to say the least. But this was of little import at the moment as Lord Wayne again addressed the Captain.

"You realize, of course, that I will have an active part in this investigation." It was not a question. Though merely an Earl, Wayne was known for demanding--no, expecting--that others of lesser rank accede to his whims. Despite knowing this, the statement still managed to startle the poor captain. Kent could see his face begin to color and wondered if the man was going to have an apoplectic fit here in his own office.

"I say! That is not at all proper! One does not merely decide to involve ones self in an investigation--"

"No, 'one' does not, Captain. 'I', however, do."

"But--"

"Captain!" Wayne raised his voice only slightly, but in the small office it seemed a shout. "I am a peer of the realm and I can do whatever I wish under the constraints of the law. Is this not so?"

'Yes, yes, but surely--"

"And is there a law on your books at present which prevents me from involving myself in a matter of great consequence to myself and Miss Prince?"

"No, no, of course--"

"Quite! Then it's settled." Turning towards the inspector, who had been watching the conversation with little bemusement, "Kent, report to Wayne Manor at 10am sharp, please".

A quick glance at Miss Prince told Kent that Wayne was not the only one determined to 'involve himself' in this matter. Her jaw was set, he had to admit in a most fetching manner, but the message was clear that she, too, would not merely await the results of an investigation. The captain did not get an opportunity to determine how the investigation would proceed, so it was up to Kent.

"Lord Wayne, while I--"

With an audible sigh and clearly on the brink of losing his temper, Wayne began to interrupt but to his surprise was cut off.

"No, please, my lord, allow me to finish." Despite himself, the brooding earl's teeth snapped shut, his jaw tightly clenched as if to burst.

"I understand your desire to find the dastards who would threaten Miss Prince, but as a lawful agent of the queen I must respectfully remind you that I am not under your authority. While I will, of course, value your assistance, I will be responsible for how this matter proceeds. That IS a law on our books, which I would be glad to show you if necessary."

Knowing full well that Kent was right, the earl ceded this defeat with a slight nod of his magnificently coiffed head. Mentally, he saluted the inspector. At least he found a man to look into this instead of some fawning commoner. His anger was slightly offset by a modicum of respect.

Yet through his still clenched teeth, he growled "And when would Mr. Kent like to begin, pray tell?"

The imperturbable Kent calmly responded, "It's Inspector Kent, if you please, my lord, and 10am at Wayne Manor would be quite appropriate. Until then, sir?"

Flummoxed yet again at being summarily dismissed by the inspector, Wayne gave his arm to Miss Prince while still locked into Kent's gaze. Only when he noticed that Diana hadn't taken his arm did he turn.

"Our business here is done for now. We shall leave." Still not taking his arm, she merely stared at him with an expression that showed she was most definitely affronted. After a brief pause, he managed to recover himself. "Miss Prince, our business is concluded, shall we depart?"

With that concession, she took his arm and they turned to go. As they left the office Miss Prince turned to eye the stubborn inspector again, this time with a most approving expression. Captain and inspector were still staring at the office door as they heard their carriage drive away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three (WonderCat)

She peered at herself in the looking glass as she contemplated her fate. The Earl of Gotham had returned her to her lodgings in London almost immediately after their meeting with Captain White and Inspector Kent. He had been just as brash as always, informing her of their dinner plans to join Lord Garrick and his party, as though she had nothing better to do than obey his every whim. She snorted inwardly as she glanced over her toilette. Ribbons and various small gems were strewn about, along with powders and things she was not quite sure what were—offerings from her betrothed because they are what every modern woman wants. He was so arrogant and pompous; so sure of himself….he was so many traits that she despised about men…but there was something, some spark that she saw in him. She knew he wanted to do good. She knew he wanted to keep the people under his guardianship safe from harm, including too harsh taxes. Everything else about him, however, seemed to infuriate her. More than once she had wondered if she had made the right choice in accepting his proposal. When she accepted, she had thought she could change him. She thought she could help bring out the good man inside him so the whole world could see, but now she seemed so unsure.

She remembered their first meeting; he had been washed over board during a terrible storm at sea. Thanks to Poseidon, she found him floating not far from her home. She pulled him from the sea, helped him to heal, and fell in love him…or so she had thought at the time. Now she was not quite so sure about that part. Once he had healed, she journeyed with him to England. She remembered being so very happy then, but upon their arrival to England, he seemed like a different man altogether. He became broody and silent. He flirted with other women, disturbingly so. She did not think it would bother her quite so much, except that he seemed to take such pleasure from it…and there was one woman…Miss Lane, daughter of General Lane, who had led England to many successful campaigns. The woman was infuriating. Anytime she was at an event in which the Earl of Gotham attended, she made sure to be on his arm or in some way occupying his attention. It was obvious to anyone that she was nothing more than a social climber, more interested in his money and station than his love. She found it revolting and had asked her betrothed on several occasions to stop. He had only given her that fake smile he often flashed in public and falsely promised to "try his best." She longed for a man that would be honest with her. She longed for a man that did not feel he had to hide his kindness or his desire to good or help others, but who was still strong despite his kindness. She longed for someone who did not seem so very false. She smiled at the thought of her dear betrothed being silenced by a man he thought beneath him. The Inspector had been quite forceful in his way, but not harsh or overbearing, an admirable trait. He seemed so very different from the others of his sex. Though she had only seen him for a few moments, and spoken to him only briefly, she could not help but feel akin to him. There was something about him…

A knock at the door startled her from her revere. She looked to the door as she said, "Yes?"

The door opened and a short, plump maid entered the room. "'cuse me, Miss?"

"Yes, Etta? What is it?"

"Is there anythin' I can g't you, Miss?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four (ImFanci)

Lord Garrick was a gracious host. With graying hair and almost as tall as her fiancé, he stood as proudly as any member of his class. Though Diana had never met him before tonight, his gentle eyes and warm smile reassured her that not all of England's finest citizens were as arrogant as the next. She glanced at Bru…Lord Wayne. It still puzzled her why she had to address him so formally.

As they made their way around the fine interior of Keystone Manor, they were greeted by another of her fiancé's acquaintances. "Good evening, Miss Prince. It is a pleasure to see you again, and may I dare say you look rather lovely tonight." The tall blond man took Diana's gloved hand and brought it to his mustached lips. After bestowing a light kiss on  
her hand, he turned to Wayne with a devilish grin and gleam in his eyes. "Wayne, you are the luckiest man in London. If Miss Prince had met me first, you would say the same about me."

"When will you grow out of your adolescence, Oliver?" Wayne answered. "It has been many years since our days at Oxford."

"Even then you were just as droll." Lord Oliver turned his attention back to Diana. "Now that the pleasantries are over, I need to have a private word with the Earl on a business matter. Will you excuse us, please?" Even Wayne turned to her for her endorsement.

"Certainly." With a slight nod of approval, Diana walked away as the two men headed in the opposite direction. Having a healthy appetite, she made her way towards the displayed hors d'oeuvres.

He had been watching her since the moment she arrived. After all, it was now part of his duty to maintain her safety. Since she was now alone, Kent started walking towards Miss Prince. He decided it would be advantageous to begin his interview with her instead of waiting until the next morning at Wayne Manor.

As the steps he took brought him closer to Miss Prince, he began tucking at his collar and pressing down on the lapels of his dinner jacket. It still unnerved him that she took his breath away at the sight of her. 'Calm down, Clark. You're not a school boy, and she is betrothed to someone else,' as he scolded himself.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Miss Prince? We met earlier today. I'm Inspector Kent."

Recognizing the voice, Diana turned around with a warm smile and left it fixed on her face. The man in front of her was certainly the same one she met hours ago at Scotland Yard. This time, he looked dashing. His black dinner attire may not be of the same richness as Bruce's, but Kent could easily rival him in appearance.

Finding her voice, "Yes, of course, I remember you, Inspector." As he smiled in return, she noticed his eyes were vividly blue and reminded her of the inviting seas of home.  
Swallowing what saliva she had, "Let me guess: You are here because Lord Garrick is a friend, or you are fulfilling part of your duty as bodyguard."

"Both assumptions would be correct, but slightly inaccurate on the first. Actually, one of Lord Garrick's relatives is a good friend of mine and Lord Garrick is always kind enough to extend his dinner invitations to me. And since I am here, I am at your service." Almost as an afterthought, Kent continued, "I must commend you on your deductive reasoning. I wish many more at Scotland Yard had your sharp mind."

"Thank you. Now, I'm sure you have some questions for me as well that are pertinent to your investigation." With one raised finely arched eyebrow, Diana continued, "Would you like to begin your questioning now?"

Kent was once again impressed by Ms. Prince. "It seems you have me at a disadvantage. Apparently you read minds as well."

Diana's short burst of laughter had a few curious looks turn in their direction. With laughter still reflected in her eyes, she replied, "Inspector Kent, if I could read minds, then I would have made certain decisions long ago."

Before Kent realized it, he admitted, "You are amazing." At her surprised look, he continued, "I'm sorry. I should not have said that. That was improper of me." All he could do was wait for a berating response from her. But it did not come. Diana could see that Kent was earnest. For reasons unknown to her, she held his gaze for what seemed like eons. She was about to tell him she was not offended when she was interrupted.

"There you are, my dear. The business with Lord Oliver took too long for my liking." As Wayne stood beside Diana, he possessively put his hand on the small of her back. Turning his attention to Kent, "Inspector, I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."

Noting the veiled demand in Lord Wayne's tone, Kent simply replied, "I was invited as you were."

"Yes, the Inspector is a friend of Lord Garrick's family," Diana added. As something else caught her attention, she said, "And speaking of family friends, here comes one of yours, Lord Wayne."

Kent glanced to see Miss Prince had visibly stiffened and she was no longer smiling. Both men turned to see who Diana was referring to.

The attractive brunette sashaying her way towards them had the smile of a lioness about to pounce on her prey pasted on her face, and her eyes were on Lord Wayne. As she joined their group, she briefly acknowledged Diana with a nod. She gave a slight smile at Kent as she admired his face and build. But her cursory glance of his attire determined that he no longer interested her. Finally resting her eyes on the prize, she said, "Good evening, Lord Wayne. It is always a delightful surprise whenever we meet."

Wayne, appreciating the amount of attention he was given, replied, "Good evening, to you, too, Miss Lane."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 (Dnkstar)

The band called for "ladies' choice", and Miss Lane, at once, spied the chance she was looking for.

"Ah, Lord Wayne; this is my favorite Waltz. Would you care to take a turn with me, sir?" she asked, as she whisked him off to the dance floor, and away from Diana. For several long moments, Diana watched as the two danced and flirted shamelessly around the room. Suddenly a voice startled Diana from her quickly- darkening thoughts.

"Uh, Miss Prince---"

"Diana…"

"Excuse me?" he said, taken back.

"Just Diana, if you please, Inspector." she said with a slight smile. "I find all these formalities a bit…off-putting."

"Why, yes of course, er…Diana. So, I was wondering, what do you think of London? I mean, I know you haven't been here all that long, but uhhh…."

He found himself fidgeting with his collar again, at a loss for words.

"Truthfully, Inspector? I can think of other places I'd rather be…" she said; turning her attention from the dancing couple.

"Yes, quite." he said, noting her unspoken undertones.

"You'll forgive me for bringing up such an unpleasant topic, but about these attempts on your life… I was wondering if you could elaborate on some things for me…."

"Certainly. What would you like to know?"

"Well, for one thing, when did all this start? If I understand correctly, you had no problems before coming to London?"

"Yes, that's correct. Our trip over was thoroughly uneventful up until then."

"When you say 'we', to whom are you referring'?"

"Bruce, the staff and myself."

"And all together, how many of them would you say there are?"

"Hmmm, not many. Perhaps half a dozen at the most. And there were less than that at the start. At the beginning of our trip, there was just the four of us: Bruce, his man "Alfred", Etta, and myself."

"And Etta would be…?"

"She's my personal maid and house matron. And before you ask: she's a woman I find completely beyond reproach."

"And as for the rest of the staff…?

"There's our elderly houseman, "Lawrence". The rest are children from the local orphanage that Etta and I have taken into our employ. This way, we can teach them practical skills, while they earn a small wage for themselves. So you see, sir? While someone of my staff might be the most obvious suspect, it's just clearly not the case."

Before the inspector could ask his next question, however; they were abruptly interrupted by her fiancé and the "lioness." Within full earshot of everyone in attendance, Miss Lane cooed "All this dancing has made me a bit warm. I believe a walk around the lake would be just the thing for a bit of cooling off. Won't you join me, your lordship?" Before he'd even had an opportunity to answer, she'd once again whisked him off, and dragged him toward the nearest door. The inspector, keen to the growing tension of the situation, once again, picked a timely instance to intervene:

"Diana, I was just preparing to leave. If you're in need of a carriage, I'll be more than happy to see you home."

"Thank you, Inspector. I think I'd like that. Although, I've a feeling my fiancé is going to be in for quite the surprise when he returns…" She suddenly let out a laugh that was both beautiful, and completely wicked. The inspector, thoroughly enchanted, found himself chuckling as well.

"Oh, you're welcome, Diana. And the name is 'Clark'. I'm not much for formalities, either", he chuckled. They rode in relative silence, until they finally came to Diana's house. From the downstairs foyer, a light appeared, and the always- efficient Etta appeared, almost before they made it to the door.

"Etta, this is Inspector Kent from the---"

"Inspector---? Oh, mercy me! Then it's happened again, has it?!" gasped Etta, wide-eyed.

"No, nothing like that. The inspector was kind enough to offer me transport after---"

"Oh, I see--" said Etta, regarding the inspector with a knowing look, and a sudden, impish smile. "Well, thank ye much fer seein' me Diana home safely. Will ye be stayin' for tea, then sir? T'will be no hindrance at all t'set another place."

"Uh, no thank you. I'll be going now. Another time, perhaps? Good night then, ladies."  
Etta waited until she'd seen the inspector's carriage go, and then demanded in a conspiratory tone "Well, out with it child---"

"What?" inquired Diana, feigning ignorance.

"What indeed, missy! It's like this, girl-- "she said as she took both of Diana's hands in her in her own, and led her up the stairs.

"--- First, we'll get ye out o' yer tressin's and into something; comfortable; I'll bring us up our tea, an' then ye'll tell me this night's tale. An' mind ye, I'll have ev'ry detail if I have t'beat it out o' ye word fer bloody word!" she exclaimed, with a mock ferocity that made Diana giggle. But no sooner had Etta opened the door to Diana's chambers and moved to turn up the lamp when something whizzed by her head and imbedded itself into the wall behind her. "What on earth?"

"It's an arrow!" exclaimed Diana, suddenly shaking with anger.

"Saints preserve us! The blighter's a-getting' bolder by the day!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 (Hellacre)

The Earl of Gotham arrived at his betrothed's lodgings an hour after she had left Keystone Manor. It was past ten and he was able to find out from the elderly Lawrence that Miss Prince was still awake. He demanded entry and found himself facing an anxious looking Etta, who blurted out the story and showed him the incriminating arrow. Lord Wayne studied the arrow and his lips tightened. He carried it with him as he was escorted to the upper salon. There he found Miss Prince in an armchair, enwrapped in a long robe, her hair in a single braid, reading a book. Etta gave Diana a warning look as she shut the door behind them.

Diana looked up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Why did you leave? I looked around for you only to be told by a footman that you went off with that policeman!"

"I am surprised you noticed at all. Did Miss Lane enjoy her "cooling off"?"

"Don't be childish, Diana. I have explained to you that Lois and the General are very good friends of the family. Your going off in a huff with Inspector Kent only served to draw unwanted attention to your departure and lack of courtesy to our host...and from what Etta told me...put your life in danger! She said this was fired at you!" He held up the arrow.

Diana snapped her book shut. "Yes. I was fired upon. What of it?"

"You are sitting here reading as if nothing is amiss!?"

"Perhaps you would prefer me to have a fit of the vapours or go into hysterics, my lord?"

He said in his brusque, almost dismissive way, "Facetiousness does not become you." He ignored the infuriated clouding of her blue eyes and declared, "You cannot remain here."

"I can and will. You know I have work with the orphanage and I cannot go to Wayne Manor without a proper chaperon."

"I'll organize for a chaperon. I may have to write a few letters." He began to pace, his face creased with thought. "In the meantime, you will not go off without proper escort and I will send more staff to watch over you. I have a couple of ostlers who are retired army-men..."

"So I must stay here until you say otherwise?''

She stood up now, facing him with a mutinous twist to her lips. He could see she was ready to challenge his authority; from past experience he knew she could be very stubborn and opinionated. But he also knew what tactics to use to get her to relent. He said grimly, "You may not have a care for yourself, but Etta was very shaken and I understand the arrow was not far from her head. If you cannot take care for yourself, maybe you can for others."

Diana seemed to grow a bit pale at this harsh reminder. She said rigidly, "Very well.  
I suppose I will have to postpone the engagement with Madame Julie tomorrow."

He looked blank. She explained slowly, "The modiste who is finishing off the gown for the Luthor ball tomorrow."

He frowned and rubbed his chin. "Ah. Yes. We must go to that. Don't worry; you'll be able to go to your dress-maker. I'll make arrangements. Do recall, I have business to follow up at the Exchange and it may take up most of the day. I will see you when I pick you up to go to the ball."

He took her hand and began to draw her towards him. Diana allowed him but turned her face to the side and his kiss fell on her cheek instead of her lips. He let her go and said a bit tightly, "I see I'm still not forgiven."

She sighed wearily, "I am tired, Bruce. Please, I long to retire."

He was wise enough not to press the issue. He bade her a civil goodnight and they parted on the landing of the salon.

The next day Miss Prince rose and readied for her ten o clock appointment with the modiste. Etta was agog to inform her that two men had joined the staff. "Strappin' men, missus! Built like oak trees, they is! One of 'em will be driving us out...the other seems bent on marchin' round the 'ouse like some tin soldier..."

Diana picked up her reticule and parasol. She looked at Etta's face, her plump cheeks were flushed like an excited schoolgirl's. She said curiously, "You seem very happy at that prospect, Etta."

Etta coughed. "Well, tis not often we gets to see anyone... yer know...stronglike...and 'andsome....Though yer may n't think much of 'em,yer havin' the Earl and 'is fancy clothes and way of talking...All I 'ad was ole Lawrence, god bless his dear half -deaf 'eart."

Miss Prince laughed. "Why, Etta, I think you are smitten."

Etta blushed but protested. Miss Prince resisted the temptation to tease her further and the pair went downstairs. Lord Wayne had made provision for a carriage be sent for from the nearby mews. One of the new men was perched on the driver's seat, and, waiting patiently beside the two horse equipage, was Inspector Kent.

Kent bowed. "Good morning,ladies."

Miss Prince halted in her tracks and stared at him. Etta murmured," He's a right fine rozzer in daylight, ain't he?"

Diana chided softly, "Hush, he will hear." She continued politely, "Good morning. What are you doing here?"

"I was requested by the Earl to accompany you on your outing today."

"What? Do not be absurd! We are only going to the dressmakers. And in a carriage, with a driver-escort. It is not that far......."

"It's far enough for Lord Wayne to be concerned, especially after last night's incident."

"You know about that already?"

"Yes, a message was sent to my Captain for me to report here instead of the Wayne mansion to keep an eye on you."

She looked to the heavens and seemed to beseech wearily, "Clark, I do not need a personal-guard...not for this."

He said, in an undertone, "Whilst I'm on duty let it be Inspector or Mr. Kent. It's more for my benefit than yours."

He stepped back to open the carriage door." Maybe you do not think you need me here, Miss Prince, but I have my orders."

"And you take these orders even if it may be a waste of both our time?"

He said, matter-of-fact, "That remains to be seen whether it is a waste of time."

"Really, Inspector, I am sure nothing will happen."

He smiled. "Well, I'd have done my job then."

She sighed and looked up to see the newest member of staff doff his hat at them. He was a man in his late forties with greying fair hair and introduced himself as Mr. Trevor. Etta stole a sly glance up at him as he made a comment about the weather being especially fine and how honoured he was to serve them. Miss Prince gave the directions for the modiste in Regent Street and she and Etta and Kent climbed aboard.

As they drove towards their destination, Miss Prince eyed Kent opposite her. "Is this the kind of thing you normally do?"

"Escorting a client is not unusual."

"You normally escort clients to dress-fittings? I find that hard to believe."

"I've done worse."

They arrived at the modiste's shop and the Inspector scandalized the maid and discomforted Miss Prince by going in with them.

Diana berated him. "You ought not come in!"

He said, with that implacable calm of his, "My orders were strict. I am not to let you out of my sight."

The modiste Madame Julie was non too pleased either; but said nothing because it was early and no other customers were about and Miss Prince was the Earl of Gotham's betrothed. She tolerated the large policeman as one would an elephant in a china shop. Diana watched him as he took his place in a corner, leaned back against a recess and folded his arms across his chest. He may be mild-mannered but there was something imposing about the way he filled a space. Etta sat on a chair whilst her mistress was escorted behind curtains to try on a claret coloured creation. Madame Julie waited outside, armed with a tape, scissors and pins to make adjustments.

Diana appeared, looking a bit self-conscious. Etta beamed. "Oh Miss!Yer looks righ' prettie as a pitcher..."

Kent straightened up, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. He fidgeted again with his collar.

Madame Julie circled her, pulling and tugging and pinning. "Very good...but ah cherie, it is a bit loose around the back and this neck...the decolletage...low enough, n'est ce pas?"

Diana blushed and covered the obvious swell of her bosom with her palms. "Too low", she whispered, as the modiste made note of the adjustments. She was conscious of Kent regarding her with a pensive expression, as one would as they considered a fine painting or statue. She found this candid, almost meditative scrutiny more unsettling than the Earl's penetrating gaze.

She blurted out. "I wish you would stop gawking at me, Inspector."

He blinked. "Was I gawking? I beg your pardon."

Madame Julie announced briskly, "Voila! You will make a favourable impression at the ball, Mademoiselle."

She said hastily, "Fine. Are you finished?"

"Oui, you can change and I can do the alterations in half an hour. You will wait?"

"I need to go to the milliner's down the street."

Etta spoke up, "I'll wait, Miss. Yer can go on wid the Inspector..."

Ten minutes later they were walking down the street after Diana had indicated to Mr. Trevor her intention and that he was to wait with Etta. Kent began, "I did not mean to offend you."

She looked a bit guilty. "I am sorry if I seem impatient...it's just...well, the Earl has a high-handed manner of doing things. He rarely involves me in anything important...He makes decisions and expects me to accept them even though he knows ...well...he knows how I feel about that..."

Kent said gravely, "He's only trying to protect you."

She sighed and muttered, "I've been protected all my life..."

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Here's the milliner."

They spent fifteen minutes in the shop. Diana tried on several hats whilst Kent received disapproving glares from mainly elderly female chaperons as he lounged near the door. They emerged eventually; Kent carrying a bandbox for her whilst she carried a package with ribbons and flowers. He looked at her curiously. "You bought only one?"

"Yes."

"The hat-woman seemed a bit disappointed that the future Lady Wayne was not more extravagant."

"Well, I am Miss Prince still. Not Lady Wayne. And one ought to buy as one needs."

"Interesting."

"Why is that?"

"You have the Wayne fortune at your disposal."

"It would be highly hypocritical of me to act the lady of mercy to the disadvantaged but then go on wild spending excursions. That may be the way of some, not me." She paused to peer in at the window of a bookseller. "I really would not mind going in. I have heard much of the writer Mr. Dickens and would love to buy one of his works."

Kent took her elbow. "We cannot stop. Come along."

"Oh, it will be alright. Mr. Trevor and Etta will wait for us. Truth be told, I think they would like to be left alone for a while longer..."

"No, that's not the reason."

"What then?"

He looked a bit tense. He said low, "We are being followed."

"What?!"

"No, don't look back..."He gently put his palm down the small of her back and propelled her forward.

She asked, "How do you know?"

"We have been followed since we left the dress-maker's."

"By whom?"

"A figure in a grey coat and hat."

Diana stopped abruptly, pretended to drop her parcel and, as she bent to pick it up, glanced past her shoulder. Through the throng of people, she saw a tall figure in grey suddenly stop and pretend to speak to a chestnut seller.

The Inspector frowned. "I told you not to look back. He may realise that we are wise to him. I must get you back to the carriage..."

She said, a bit ruffled, "I am not a child. All this trying to shield me is only serving to make me more nervous! We ought to try to find out who he is!" Kent looked at her taken aback. "We? That's not a good idea. The Earl will not approve." As he spoke, light droplets of rain began to fall. He looked up in relief at the drizzle. "It's begun to rain...let's hurry before it comes down harder..."

"A little rain does not hurt anyone."

"Miss Prince...Diana, "he said earnestly, "we don't know who or what is following and on a public street you make an easy target."

She looked unmoved by his attempt to appeal to her sensibilities. She glanced up at a cobbled pathway leading onto an adjoining street. She announced, "Let us give him a real chase!"

To the Inspector's astonishment, she lifted her skirt with one hand and began to run up the narrow path. He let out a smothered oath. "Ah hell!"

She surprised him by being nimble and swift. He called from behind, "Diana, you are being fool-hardy!"

She glanced over her shoulder and shot back, "I never took you for a coward, Clark!"

"That is not the point! Damn it!", he grunted, nearly tripping over a pile of old crates in an attempt to sidestep a couple of drunkards in the alleyway.

She called, "I think we may have got his attention."

True enough the grey clad figure was following, trying to push past people along the street and alleyway. Diana emerged into the next street and would have gone towards an open square; but the rain began to fall heavier. People began to scamper for cover. Kent was able to grab her arm as she paused to consider the area. He hustled her to a nearby arcade of columns and archways lined with pawn, antique and book shops. He pulled her into the covered passageway." You'll be seen!"

He dragged her into a small pawnshop and they peered through the glass pane of the door. The pawnbroker, a short bucktoothed man, looked up form behind his counter. "Can I help you, folks?"

Kent breathed, "No...we are just looking about..."

"Well, don't be touchin' anything if you ain't going to buy..."

They nodded and let out a tiny gasp as they saw the grey figure appear at the end of the arcade, slowly making its way towards them. The figure was peering into every store window. Kent suddenly had an idea. He shoved Diana to the window of the shop and ordered, "Pretend you are looking at something!"

Diana picked up a book from a shelf and stood in front of the dusty window and pretended to read. The figure's face was hidden by the large hat and a scarf over the mouth; it peered in and seemed to start as it saw Miss Prince inside. Kent waited behind a shelf full of old brass fireplace items and kitchenware. The grey figure suddenly pushed opened the door and went behind the seemingly oblivious woman.

The Inspector picked up a meatplate and smacked the stalker at the back of the head. The figure fell, dazed, in a heap at Diana's feet. The pawn-broker saw his precious charger crack into two and came running. "I hopes you will be payin' for that...That is royal Dolton..."

Miss Prince retorted as she put her book down, "Bill the Earl of Gotham."

"I don't care who the bleedin' Earl of Goth..."

The Inspector flashed a badge and ordered coldly, "Move."

The man paled and began to apologise and retreat. "Oh beggin' yer pardon, sir...I'll take meself to the back..."

"Yes, you do that."

Diana asked, "Who is it, Clark?"

Kent bent and flicked the hat off, and drew down the scarf. The face that looked up at them was not that of a man as they had believed. The features were those of an attractive woman with titan hair, pulled back in a tight knot.

Diana held her cheeks and gasped. "Artemis???!!!!!." She bent at once and tried to help the groaning figure to a sitting position.

Kent regarded them in astonishment. "You know this woman?"

"She is...like a sister to me....We grew up together in Themyscira..."

"Themyscira?"

"It is an island province in the Mediterranean. My mother is a Contessa and Artemis and I went to school at the same seminary."

"A Contessa? You are from a privileged background?"

"Whatever privilege I had, according to our custom, I renounced to come here with Lord Wayne...I did not leave home under the best of circumstances. I left without mother's blessings."

Kent folded his arms and said dryly, "Your fiancé omitted to tell me any of this. It makes sense that he should wed a blueblood like himself."

"I do not consider myself a blue-blood...." She looked at the woman and asked gravely, "Why are you here?"

The woman called Artemis winced, and rubbed her head. The hat had prevented her from sustaining any serious injury. "I was only coming to warn you...someone is trying to kill you."

Kent looked at her with a cynical lift to the brow. "I believe we are aware of that fact and it seems we have now established the identity of that someone."

Artemis looked at Diana earnestly. "You cannot believe it is me! You know I never would hurt you, sister."

"Then why are you in England? Why are you following me?"

"The Lady Hippolyta sent me ...to try to persuade you back home..."

Diana observed, "You fired that arrow at me last night, didn't you?" Artemis looked guilty but said defiantly, "We thought it would scare you into leaving."

"We?"

"I came with your mother's servant, Hermes"

She assisted her up. "Silly creatures, I guessed it from the feathers on the shaft...they were not native to Britain."

Artemis grimaced. "I had not thought of that...But that was all we ever did. We witnessed when you were nearly run over by that carriage two days ago."

"Well, that was only one of three other incidents. You cannot have been here long..."

"Going on four days. It has been impossible getting access to you. You have been surrounded by Waynes' staff day and night."

"Where is Hermes?"

"I persuaded him to watch your maid and driver whilst I followed you two. I never expected you to knock me near senseless."

Kent, listening to the conversation, finally felt the need to remark skeptically, "So you would have us believe that you have been following Miss Prince only to watch over her and you are not trying to get rid of her?"

"Why would I want to do that? And who are you?'', she asked a bit frostily.

"This is a police-man, Inspector Kent. Lord Wayne hired him to investigate the matter and like you, he too is watching out for me ", Diana explained.

"Your best option would be to leave here, sister, the longer you stay the worse your chances of survival. Your fiancé is a man with a dark past and many enemies. If you are wise you will not marry the Earl of Gotham..."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 (Ronnie K)

The ornate clock over the fireplace began to chime, signaling time for luncheon. The bald gentleman seated at the antique desk in the middle of the large library took no notice, however, chewing absently at an ink stained finger while pondering the figures in the ledger in front of him.

Lord Lex Luthor, Earl of Montefort, felt the mundane tasks of household budget and management were beneath him, but it was imperative that he keep a personal eye on his finances. Every farthing would be needed in the months to come if his plans were to bear the fruit he desired. His eyes and ears across the kingdom, and beyond, cost almost nothing by themselves but when added together—well, it was necessary to take a personal hand in his finances to make sure nothing was wasted. The laundering of francs from his foreign supporters made it more complicated yet. Still it was a tedious chore.

Before the clock had chimed for the fourth time, the double doors opened to admit the immaculately dressed butler bearing Lord Luthor's luncheon tray. Luthor insisted that all his staff be more than presentable, especially the household staff. He had many visitors at all hours of the day and night and his staff was the first thing most of his `friends' noticed. His staff was an extension of him and they would present themselves appropriately at all times. Two footmen and a maid had found this out the hard way. Their bodies had been found in alleys outside of town. The rest of his people got the hint.

He knew that power came from ones wealth but respectability came from how one appeared to the rest of the fools and fops of this society. He would use both of these things to his advantage in the times to come. Every detail needed to be perfect. And they would be perfect, even if he had to fill those alleyways with bodies.

The butler carefully laid the sterling silver tray upon a corner of the large desk and hesitated. Luthor did not even look up. The servant hesitated a moment more before clearing his throat. At this, the Earl finally locked a questioning eye upon his steward. "Milord Luthor, I've news." Butlers had their own eyes and ears, a fact which Luthor used to his own advantage. Especially now.

The man, clearly uneasy, hesitated yet again, precipitating the verbal explosion he had hoped to avoid in the first place. "Out with it, man! I haven't got all day to listen to your twaddle!"

Unhinged for a moment, the butler took a moment to gather himself before getting to his point.

"Milord, I've `eard from one o me blokes on the street…" Putting up a hand, Luthor cut the man short.

"First of all, Wembley, I have warned you before about sounding like some street urchin in my presence. Second, you have come to tell me that Kent has been assigned to investigate the attempts on Lady Diana. Have you anything new to tell me, Wembley, or shall I dispense with your services now?"

Wembley, for his part, was unfazed by his superior's uncanny ability to learn of events quickly. He had seen this talent many times before. However, the wily butler had his own sources of information. Enough information to keep himself employed, and alive.

"But did you know that the inspector has not only taken over the investigation, but is personally guarding the lady in question? Will this not upset our plans?"

It was well known within the Luthor household that Inspector Kent was a major thorn in the side of their lord and master. Too many times had Lord Luthor begun in intrigue only to have the indefatigable Kent interfere and ruin it. It seemed that he knew the measure of Luthor, yet could bring no formal charges against the cagey earl. Luthor knew how to cover himself and was vexed time and again at having to use that talent. This new development could not be a good thing, and so the butler was surprised that after a moment of deep thought, his master smiled.

"Our plans, Wembley? Since you bring me such good news, I will excuse such impertinence. Never let it happen again or I'll reunite you with that maid you thought was so fetching."

After an involuntary gulp, the butler went to smooth things over with his tempestuous lord. "Beggin'---um, I beg your pardon, milord. It will never happen again. But why is it good news that Kent is sticking his nose into your business again?"

Standing up abruptly, and pacing the room, Luthor explained. "This is why I am the master and you are the servant, Wembley. Where you see obstacles, I see opportunities. This is my opportunity not only to get the power and wealth I desire, but to get rid of that nuisance Kent at the same time."

"I don't understand, milord."

"Of course you don't. I'll explain it so even you can comprehend it then. Once we've managed to assassinate the good lady, my spies can begin to rouse the rabble in her native Greece. Once stirred up enough (with a little help from my spies in her court), their queen will have no choice but to declare war on England. When their ships leave port, our own simpleton of a monarch will have no choice but to answer by shifting his full fleet to meet the queen's armada. Once that has begun, we signal our French allies to attack from the southwest while England's defenses are occupied east. From there, it should not take much to storm the capital and for me to assume the throne, especially after some carefully considered rumors (started by you) insinuating that there is no fleet and that the king is becoming senile. Our spies in the palace will ensure not only that the rumors are true, but they will make sure that the king has an unfortunate accident as I ascend to the throne. I know this sounds incredibly complex to your tiny brain, but its greatest virtue is its simplicity."

"But what if the queen doesn't send her ships?"

"T'would be better if she did not. My people in the court will make sure that everyone believes that the fleet is coming whether they are or not."

Deep in unfamiliar cogitation, the butler finally asked "But what has that to do with Kent, Lord Luthor?"

Luthor's wicked laugh seemed to drop the temperature of the chilly room even more. "Why, who else would be such a perfect scapegrace for the murder of Lady Diana, than the overly unctuous Kent? It will fit my plans perfectly while at the same time eliminating that foolish inspector. Of course, as monarch, I would personally have to hang the man responsible for such a needless war. Is Kent on our guest list?"

Luthor turned at the movement behind him. Walking towards him with a languorous gait was a woman of above average height, her blonde hair styled in ringlets today swaying with every step on what were, judging by the occasional glimpse, very shapely legs. A beautiful woman, known only as Mercy, she was not well known beyond the household. Luthor kept her there as his sometime lover and ever present attaché. Her main employ at present was running the household. She did so with a hand of iron, as any scullery maid or footman could tell you. The bodies found in the alleyways were also her work. A woman of diverse talents. The talents called into play at present, however, were her social engagement skills. She critically scanned a sheet of paper as she approached.

"No, Lord Luthor, Kent is not on the guest list. Shall I add him? The invite can be sent `round today, if it pleases you."

"It would please me much, Mercy. And invite that Lane chit too. I would like this to be a most memorable evening, if at all possible."

At the mention of Lane, Mercy began to pout.

"Now, now, Mercy. You know that you are the only one for me." he cooed. The oily insincerity of the statement was completely lost on the woman. It was not lost on Wembley, however, who had to hide a smile. He had seen what happens to those who got on her bad side. Evidently naming her "Mercy" was akin to calling a giant man "Tiny".

Luthor turned to Wembley. "Round up some 'extra' help for the ball. I want eyes and ears on Diana, Wayne, Kent and Lane at all times. Understand?"

"Yessir, milord, I'll be right on it." With that, the butler left, closing the door behind him.

"Mercy, go round up Hope and double check all the arrangements. This ball will go off without a hitch or I'll have your heads mounted on my wall." he said as he turned back to his budget figures.

She gulped—hard before managing "Right away, Lord Lex."

With a deep curtsey, Mercy quickly left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 (WonderCat)

The sudden discovery of Artemis and Hermes along with the omen they bore, gave Diana much to think about. Through much duress, Artemis and Hermes returned to their lodgings leaving Diana in the company of her trusty friend and the inspector. The carriage ride to Diana's London lodgings was quiet, for Diana was lost in thought and no words from Etta or Inspector Kent could draw her out. For many days now, Diana had questioned her love for the Earl of Gotham and in turn, his feelings for her. As well, it had been many months since she left her home and mother for this strange new land and this man who treated her as little more than an accessory. With furrowed brow, she wondered if her mother had been right all along, and for the first time she seriously contemplated breaking her engagement and returning to Themyscira. She sighed resolutely. Her pride and honor would not allow her to break her engagement, at least, not because of doubts.

Arriving at their lodging, Inspector Kent helped Etta and Diana to alight from the carriage. After obtaining Diana's word that she would not leave her lodgings without the Earl or himself at her side, Inspector Kent excused himself, saying that he had a lead he needed to check out, but that he would return within a few hours.

Upon entering the house, Diana and Etta found themselves attacked by a horde of orphans demanding to know if there had been another attack on their patroness' life. Etta, sensing that Diana perhaps did not wish to discuss the events of the morning, tried to shoo the children away.

"How would all of you like crumpets and jam?" Diana asked. The children, ecstatic by the generous offer, whole heartedly agreed. A small girl, by the name of Thelma Thin, took Diana by the hand and led her among the crowd of children towards the salon.

"M'lady, you can n't give `em crumpets-n-jam!" Etta exclaimed. "These hooligans needn't be spoilt so! Dry bed's all they need, Miss, an' send `em off to work."

"Nonsense, Etta. The children deserve a treat every so often, and they have done a fine job at each of their assigned tasks. Let them have a little treat every now and then."

"You spoil `em too much, M'lady, too much, indeed!" Etta continued her protest, but Diana would not listen. She ordered crumpets and jam to be sent to the salon, along with a pot of tea. As they entered the salon, a small commotion occurred that caused the children to laugh. "Sweet Mary! Patrick O'Brien! What d'you think you are doin' in those fine clothes and it not even a Sunday!"

Diana turned to see the object of Etta's ire. Little Patrick O'Brien was dressed in the suit Etta had bought him to wear to mass on Sundays. Diana could not help but smile, for the suit Etta had bought him was just a tad too big and hung off of his eel-like frame in a most humorous manner.

Patrick stood with downcast eyes at the entrance to the salon as he said, "I jus' figured if we's gonna eat such fine vittles as crumpets-n-jam, and to eat `em in the gran' salon, well, I figured I should wear fine clothes like a proper ol' gent." His explanation brought an even bigger smile to Diana's lips, and she refused to allow Etta to scold him anymore. She served each of the children crumpets and jam. When Patrick O'Brien received his crumpet, he took a seat and merrily began singing a child's tune, "Crumpets-n-jam, crumpets-n-jam, crumpets-n-jam…"

Across town, a fuming Lady Lane arrived at the modiste's shop. The previous night she had entreated the Earl of Gotham to join her on an excursion today in which she had hoped to convince him to break off his engagement to that foreign twit. Could he truly not see the perfect woman for his fortune was from his own country? To her delight, he had picked her up in his carriage and ridden with her for a while, but only as far as the chancery court. As he alighted from the carriage, he informed Lady Lane that one of his personal guards would be accompanying her. She was angry he had not accompanied her, but was satisfied in that everyone would see her riding in his carriage. She alighted from the carriage and, with a wave of her hand, sent it away and entered the modiste's shop.

An hour later, a plotting Lady Lane exited the modiste's shop as if she had purpose. Stopping cold, the Lady Lane looked up and down the street. "Where is my carriage?" she demanded. She turned on the guard that accompanied her. "Why is my carriage not here? It has begun to rain! Do you expect me to walk?" Her eyes flashed a most angry red, and the guard was taken aback by her unlady-like demeanor. "Do not just stand there, you dolt! Find my carriage!" At her barking command, the guard mumbled a near inaudible "yes, m'lady" and took off down the street in search of a carriage. "Insolent fool! Honestly! What is this world coming to?" The Lady Lane fumed as she waited under the cover of the modiste's shop. She stomped her foot, and mumbled under her breath. "Well, I shall not stand out here and catch my death! I shall send for someone competent to fetch my carriage." She turned to enter the modiste's shop when a large, dark figure approached her.

"Excuse me, Miss Prince?" the figure asked.

Lady Lane was about to turn around and inform that she was not Miss Prince, when suddenly she felt herself slammed against the wall. Dazed, she tried to move and discovered that she could not. The dark figure pulled a knife from within his long overcoat. Shouting came from within the modiste's shop and down the street. Lady Lane's assailant looked up to discover her guard running towards him. He pushed away from Lady Lane, and ran. Finally able to move, Lady Lane pushed herself away from the wall. Still dazed she looked down at her white gown and noticed a red stain. "Strawberry jam!" she exclaimed. "I have strawberry jam on my gown! Oh dear! Oh, no!" She fell to the ground, no longer able to hold herself up. Her guard was by her side now, lifting her head from the ground. "I've gotten jam all over my dress. I'll never be able to go to the party now." She said in a delusional state. Her eyes stared off past the guard and she began to sing "crumpets-n-jam, crumpets-n-jam…"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine (ImFanci)

Lord Wayne's guard had the foresight to rush Ms. Lane to a private hospital owned by the Earl himself. Lord Wayne was immediately informed and rushed to the hospital. He found the guard that he had assigned to Lois this morning pacing in front of the closed door of her room. As soon as the guard spotted the Earl marching towards him, he gave him a summary of what happened and that the doctor was still tending to Ms. Lane.

When he was finished, Wayne remained silent and stood looking at the closed door, making the guard nervous. Wayne finally turned to him and said, "You did the right thing by bringing Ms. Lane to this hospital. Smithers will be arriving soon to replace you. You may excuse yourself from duty today, and return first thing tomorrow morning."

The guard looked visibly relieved. With a curt bow, he excused himself from the Earl's presence.

Alone in the hallway, Bruce was trying to figure out why Lois was attacked. He also felt especially responsible for her since she was under his protection when she was attacked.

A few moments later, a doctor and nurse stepped out of her room. Dr. Barnes informed him that Ms. Lane was in stable condition and she would recover quickly from her injury. Her assailant missed her vital organs. Apparently, the countless ruffles on her dress cushioned the possibility of a fatal attack.

Bruce thanked the doctor as he walked away with the nurse, and stepped into Lois' room. He took a seat in the corner, and waited to see if she would awake to give him her account of the attack.

An hour later, Bruce looked up to find Diana and Inspector Kent standing in the doorway. He motioned for them to come in and stood up to greet his fiancée and her body guard. "Diana, shouldn't you be getting ready for Lord Luthor's ball?"

In a low voice, Diana ignored his question and said, "We came as soon as we heard. How is she?" Although Diana disliked Lois, she was genuinely concerned that the woman was stabbed by an assailant.

Bruce already knew Diana had a very caring nature.

Clark Kent had only just realized Diana's compassion for the life of another human-being, no matter how much she did not care for that individual.

On their way to the hospital, he asked Diana, "Why do you care about Ms. Lane's condition? It was apparent to me the night of Lord Garrick's dinner that you are not fond of her."

Diana looked at Clark and replied, "Yes, it is true that I don't like her very much. However, she is another human-being, and a woman, and sometimes even the worst of us don't deserve to be senselessly hurt by another."

Clark was taken aback by her sincere and earnest response that he could feel himself losing part of his heart to her. He did not say another word on the carriage ride.

Diana, Clark and Bruce stood together for sometime in Lois' room, discussing the possible explanations of her attack. All three concluded and agreed that Lois was attacked because she was acquainted with the Earl of Gotham and that whoever was behind all the attacks wanted to hurt those who were close to Bruce, or that Lois was mistaken for Diana. They were still in discussion when a moan came from the bed.

Lois stirred and let out another whining moan. As she opened her eyes, it dawned on her that she was in pain and laying in a hospital bed. She looked around and found Bruce standing at the foot of the bed. She smiled as she was internally giddy that Bruce cared very much for her. Just as suddenly, her smile disappeared and anger reflected in her eyes as she noticed another figure standing next to him.

"You! Get out of here! It's all your fault I'm here! That awful man thought I was you! Get away from me!" Lois remained hysterical until the doctor and nurses rushed in and ushered Diana, Clark and Bruce out the room.

Clark cleared his throat and declared, "Well, it seems we have our answer why Ms. Lane was attacked."

Lex stood by the window of his study. Although he appeared to be admiring the view of the setting sun on the horizon of his estate, he was actually absorbed in his thoughts. He heard the soft rustling of silk muslin as the door of the study opened and closed. There was only one in his employ who moved about the household freely.

Without turning to greet his employee, he said, "That matter has been taken care of?" It was more of a confirmation than a question.

"Of course, my lord," answered the feminine, yet emotionless voice. "The knife he used on Ms. Lane was the same one that ended his pathetic life. I made sure that Scotland yard will find it on Murphy's body with a piece of lace that was ripped from Ms. Lane's dress."

Earlier that afternoon, Murphy stumbled into Lex's office. He told Led that he killed Ms. Prince in an effort to accelerate his lord's plans. Murphy's excitement over the possible rewards he would receive was cut short by Lex's announcement that Murphy did not kill Diana Prince, but mistakenly injured Lois Lane instead. Lex's anger over the simpleton's error and overzealousness was temporarily dismissed when he watched Murphy's grinning face turn white with fear. Lex informed him that Mercy would assist him of redeeming himself for his error. The fool actually thanked Lex as Mercy escorted him out the door.

With a slight smile, Lex finally turned away from the window to face the deadly blonde. "Excellent work, Mercy." Walking around his desk, he started heading towards the door. "See to it that there are no more inconveniences the rest of the evening. If you will excuse me, my dear, I have dinner guests I'm anxious to greet."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten (Dnkstar)

Several minutes later, the first of the lord's guests arrived. What had started out as a typical English rain shower had quickly escalated into a full-blown tempest. The carriages bucked and stumbled as a sizable caravan made its way up the slick and precarious slope to the Earl of Moneforte's imposing abode. Lighting slashed ugly gashes in the heavens over the manor, causing the several of the carriages' horses to tremble and shy back against an increasingly violent tumult. One by one, the guests' carriages were stopped in front the manor and escorted by a small battalion of servants to a carriage house the size of a large chateau. Once inside, the guests were led to a breathtakingly beautiful subterranean hallway that winded and turned abruptly upward and toward the main house. All along the way, the assembled guests let out gasps of delight and surprise as they spied their awesome surroundings. Ornate medieval tapestries, rich oriental carpets, stately armor, and weaponry covered every wall and bit of floor leading upward toward the first floor landing. Once at the top, they followed the servants from the arched hallway into an astoundingly large front foyer.

While the assemblage waited at the bottom of a large set of winding double stairwells for their host, they had no idea that they were being watched from above: Hope turned from her vantage point overlooking the third floor landing and faced Mercy full-on. "Which ones…?" she inquired with some degree of curiosity.

"There. Do you see that group standing just over by the corner, over there?"

"All of them?" asked Hope, dark eyes widening in disbelief.

A cold smile crossed Mercy's lips. "If the need should arise… However, for now, just the Prince strumpet."

Hope's eye widened yet further, and her jaw dropped in astonishment. "Surely, you're not thinking of doing it here, tonight…! ----", she gasped.

Mercy's cold smile widened even more in response. "Why not? There are so many 'accidents' one can encounter in a place such as this; so many places for one to come to an 'unfortunate end'." And, with that, she let, out a sweet, girlish, but ultimately maniacal laugh. As if in answer, the thunder outside rumbled outside, and the wind howled its harbinger's message of ill fate. A sudden bolt of lightning lit up the room and cast a whitish glow across the gleaming blade that Mercy sat spinning around between her thumbs and forefingers. And all the while, her cold, soulless laugh reverberated throughout the upper floor of Lord Luthor's manor…


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven (Hellacre)

Inspector Kent looked wryly at Lord Garrick. "I'm not sure Luthor is going to be pleased to see me in his home, Jay."

Both men were entering the ornate vestibule and having their coats and hats taken from them by the hovering footmen. Lord Garrick looked at his friend and said smoothly, "Luthor never specified whom one ought to bring on his invite. It said Lord Garrick and guest. And I daresay, he won't even recognize you. I mean, you barely look yourself."

Lord Garrick knew what was happening with Miss Prince; he had insisted on Kent attending the Luthor ball and having his very own taylor outfit had protested at first but saw reason when his had friend pointed out the importance of being present at the ball and the need to blend in.

"They are an unforgiving lot. It's like a lion's den...they'll devour anyone they think beneath them...but look the part and they'll willing accept you. Here's a chance to continue your investigations and keep an eye on Miss Prince. I take it you want to do that...?"

"But I have my own clothes..."

Lord Garrick had looked kindly but painfully at him. "My dear boy, this is Luthor's set. They'll recognize anything that is not cut by Saville Row. Come now, you've know me since you were a lad. It's not charity, Clark."

Kent had relented with that. Now as he looked at his reflection in the gilded mirrors in the foyer, he had to admit no one could tell he belonged to the police service. He could be a merchant banker, or the heir to a railroad fortune. They'd accept him now even if he weren't blue blooded. He looked elegant and eligible. Lord Garrick had even made him  
remove the glasses in the carriage.

"Come on, you only need it to read...You can keep it in your pocket."

"But..."

"It'll keep Luthor off your back."

With a sigh, he obliged.

Now he blinked at his image; his eyes seemed bluer than usual, feeding off the fire of the sapphire in the folds of his silken cravat. And Garrick's valet had slicked back his hair with pomade, leaving the hint of a curl kissing his brow. He grimaced, "I look like a damned dandy."

"You look affluent. Luthor won't even bat an eye lid once you keep a low profile. He's probably forgotten you."

"I doubt he'll forget the one who had him hauled in for questioning three years back for fraudulent activities on the railway contracts or who arrested a handful of henchmen last  
year for an assault on a rival bidder,"he said wryly.

Lord Garrick shrugged. "Luthor has enemies everywhere. You'll be the least of his worries, I'll vouch. Besides, after what I heard happen to Miss Lane, it's even more imperative Diana is watched over."

"I wonder if they are here yet,"he mused, looking over the heads of the guests arriving and heading for the ballroom.

"Let's go see."

They entered the large ballroom and Clark blinked. He had been to small parties and dinners and the country dances of his childhood but never anything as grand as this. The room was filled with men and women from the upper echelons of London society. Music, light and laughter assaulted his senses. He was jostled as they entered and got separated from Lord Garrick, who was instantly hailed by several racing cronies and borne off to the card room.

Clark found himself up against a recess where three matrons sat with their daughters. They eyed him up and down. Over the violins he could hear one woman say, "Look at  
that one. He came in with Lord Garrick, you know... I wonder who's his family? Luthor only invites the creme de la creme. Jenny, don't slouch. Smile at the nice young man."

Clark bowed stiffly and made a hasty retreat, much to their dismay, knocking into people who turned to glare or look about in surprise. He halted further along the room and let out a sigh. A servant came pass and offered champagne. He took the glass with a nod and turned his eyes upon the dance floor.

His heart gave an unexpected thud as he saw her. She was being held in the arms of the Earl of Gotham, twirling gracefully amongst the other dancers. She was ethereal in white and silver with matching diamond and pearls and the wings of her black hair was held by a tiara. She was looking over Lord Wayne's shoulders as if lost in her own thoughts and not cognizant of being held by her betrothed in a romantic waltz.

A voice behind him uttered.

"Inspector Kent?!"

He turned and saw Miss Lane on the arm the stalwart General Lane, with the languid Oliver Queen alongside them. Lois was looking at Kent up and down, partly in disbelief and reluctant admiration. Queen eyed him in some amusement.

"How do you do, Miss Lane? I see you are recovered. Queen. General." Kent bowed.

Queen mused, "Has the Metropolitan Police patched up its differences with Lord Luthor, Kent, that it's getting an invite to his ball now?"

Kent ignored the irony and replied coolly, "I came with Lord Garrick."

"Ah, dear Jay, he does have a sense of humour. Where is he?"

"I think he was borne away to the card room."

"Luthor's bank plays stakes too high," began the General.

Queen shrugged, "Jay is rich as Croesus. A thousand here and there is nothing for him."

Lois smiled at Queen. "They say you are just as intrepid a player...maybe even more so..."

"I admit, I am partial to a game of cards. But there's too much beauty here tonight to waste time in the gaming rooms," he said gallantly.

The General asked, "You play, Kent?"

"I never gamble."

"Our Inspector has impeachable morals, no doubt," smiled Queen.

Kent said stiffly, "Quite. Excuse me, I need to speak to Lord Wayne."

Wayne and his betrothed had finished their set and were walking towards the end of the room where there were free chairs. Diana sat down and Wayne was about to hail a waiter to procure them drinks when Kent walked towards them.

Diana was fanning herself. She suppressed a yawn. These gatherings only served to remind her how homesick she felt and her lack of enthusiasm for high society. Since her arrival in England she had questioned her decision to defy her mother and come to a strange land for the love...at least she thought it was love...of the Earl. His world was full of people she could not like. They were class and money conscious. The women were more fond of parties and clothes than improving their minds and the world. She had been  
accepted only because Wayne was so powerful. No one could nor would deny him anything. Her work with the orphans was a seen as a joke or passing fancy. Most of the ton seemed to think that she would no doubt forget all that nonsense of street urchins and reform when she wed the Earl and did her duty by giving him an heir.

She sighed a bit wistfully. There was no one in the dreadful ball that she could remotely feel happy to sit and speak to. Her eyes fell on a tall, broad shouldered figure coming towards her. He was probably coming to claim her for a dance. She closed her fan determinedly. She was not in any mood to indulge anyone how ever elegant and well-to-do.

The man greeted them with a smile that was unmistakable. "My Lord. Miss Prince."

Wayne blinked. "Kent?"

Diana felt her stomach do a funny flutter and her cheeks grew hot. "Inspector. How nice to see you."

"What are you doing here?" queried the Earl.

"Jay brought me. He thought I should be here, after what happened with Miss Lane."

"He's very wise. I take it he's responsible for your, er, turnout?"

Kent replied, "Lord Garrick is aware of the danger posed to Miss Prince."

"Well, it is a clever move. I should have thought of it myself. Will you take Diana into supper? I need to speak to some associates of mine." He turned to Diana. "My dear, I have to speak to Oliver."

"Go ahead."

She looked up at Kent who was offering his arm. "Shall we?"

She rose and took it but said," Could we take a turn outside? I need some fresh air. It's suffocating in here."

They headed for the large terrace that overlooked a courtyard. The rain had stopped. On their way they chatted easily, they reached the door way only to hear a voice behind them, "Well, well, what have we here? The lovely Miss Prince and the scourge of criminals of London, the inestimable Inspector Kent."

They turned to see Lord Luthor and a couple of his associates. He looked Kent up and down.

"The Metropolitan Police must have raised your salary, Kent. You could almost be a gentleman."

"I was hoping to pass for a nobleman, "he returned calmly.

Luthor smiled. "Ah Kent, as droll as ever. Miss Prince. Always a pleasure to see you. Where is your betrothed? Surely he hasn't abandoned you?"

Diana looked at him unimpressed. She asked instead, "Is it my understanding, my Lord, that you have refused to let the Foundling Society renew the lease of the old grange house in Kilburn?"

"And what would that matter to the wife to-be of one of the richest men in England?"

"It matters because there are right now dozens of orphaned children without a decent home."

"Ah yes, I have heard of your crusade to house waifs and pickpockets. But surely Lord Wayne is wealthy enough to buy you an entire street in Kilburn. Why upbraid me, madam?"

"Human kindness and decency..."

"Of which I never boasted to have. You are the philanthropist, Miss Prince, not I," he interrupted. He looked at Kent. "I am not devoid of manners and I can only assume you  
came with Garrick. But mind how you step on my territory Inspector. This is not the gutters of East London or the potato fields of Norwich."

He walked away, while his companions sniggered as they followed him.

Diana gritted. "The arrogant obnoxious pig! How dare he speak to you like that?!"

"He's the worst of his kind. I try not to let him bait me..." Kent replied. They walked onto the terrace and sank upon a stone bench. She let out a relieved sigh and looked at him ruefully. "It's only been an hour but it feels like a lifetime."

"I take it you aren't enjoying it then?"

"I did not want to come but Bruce said this is one of the events of the social calendar...no one turns down an invite. That is all London has been...a whirlwind of parties and soirees and balls. I miss home, Clark. I miss my mother. I miss sitting under the cypress trees and hearing the waves breaking upon the shore and the call of the gulls."

He allowed her to talk of her home; asking her about her life on Themyscira. She also found out that he had been orphaned at four and had been brought up by country folk. He  
had gotten his education via the lord upon whose land his adopted parents had farmed.  
It turned out that lord had been Lord Garrick. Both Kent's parents were now dead.

As the pair talked they were unaware that they were being observed by two pairs of feminine eyes from a window above. The staid countenance of Wembley appeared behind them. He announced, "Luthor says it is time."

Mercy smiled. "Yes, we can see that. The Inspector is so helpful. He is just where we want him. I hope Lord Garrick can provide him with a good lawyer, because when we're done with the foreign minx, he'll swing like the Blue Fields killer he got strung-up several weeks ago."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve (ImFanci)

Clark and Diana were still talking and getting to know more about each other.

Clark was telling her about some of the best times of his youth. One of Jay's nephews, Wally, was almost the same age as Clark. Wally came to visit his uncle often and befriended Clark despite the difference in their social status. One of the boys' favorite pastimes was racing each other across the estate. They were both very fast runners, with Wally having a few more wins than Clark. One afternoon, after a summer shower had passed, they took off running – each baiting the other as they always did. As they got closer to the manor, Wally had a slight lead on Clark. He turned his head to see how much of a lead he had on Clark. But as he turned his attention back, he tripped over a tree root and fell into the muddy puddle before him. Since Clark was right behind Wally, he tripped over Wally and fell into the same puddle. Both boys groaned as they got up slowly. They looked at each other with the silliest grins as they were both covered in mud from head to toe. "Jay was none too pleased about that, and neither were my parents." Clark finished with a chuckle.

This recounting of Clark's youth had Diana bursting with laughter. "Oh, my. It sounds like you had a wonderful childhood." Her laughter had subsided but she was still smiling. She continued, "It is difficult to imagine you covered in mud - especially when you look very dashing tonight."

"Thank you," was all that Clark managed to say. He was not accustomed to receiving compliments on his looks. And even more so than from one so beautiful that all she had to do was smile and hearts would melt. He knew he was strong and healthy, and there were times in his life when he felt like he was made of steel. At that moment, he did not. "You look exquisite tonight, Diana," he added. The tone of his voice turned serious and his incredible blue eyes softened.

Diana, in turn, had stopped smiling too as she regarded him with wonder and new insight. She realized her pulse had quickened and she hoped that he did not have some extraordinary hearing that he could hear her heart racing.

They continued to stare at one another, not realizing that their faces had moved closer to one another and were only inches apart now. Suddenly, as if an alarm set of in each other's head, Diana blurted, "I'm parched."

"I'll get you something to drink," replied Clark just as quickly as he stood up. With his eyes slightly averted, he said, "I'm sorry. I'll be right back," and walked back into the ballroom.

Diana rose from the bench, and fanned herself as she took several steps further into the darkened courtyard. She needed to cool her jumbled, broiling emotions and clear her thoughts. Even with Bruce, she could not recall a time when he made her feel the different emotions coursing through her as Clark had just done.

Sliding out from her hiding place, Mercy stealthily followed Diana. Hope had positioned herself near the entryway of the courtyard so that when the good Inspector returned to find Ms. Prince's body, Hope would be the sole "witness" of the murder. And from what Mercy and Hope had just observed, any motive involving the feelings between Ms. Prince and the Inspector would do. It would be easy to say it was a crime of passion. The dagger Mercy was holding would be conveniently left next to the body as evidence as she disappeared into the dark. With any luck, the Inspector will pick it up to examine it, while Hope accuses she saw him holding the dagger.

This was definitely too easy of a task, thought Mercy as she was within arms length behind Diana. It always gave her a twisted sense of pleasure to knife someone – man or woman. She enjoyed hearing the screams of shock and pain, and watching the life drain from their eyes and their bodies. With a chilling smile, Mercy lifted the dagger.

Diana was still absorbed in her thoughts, but not too absorbed that her sharp hearing caught the quiet sound of soft footsteps and the slightest rustling of a skirts. Relying on her instincts, she turned around to face her visitor just as a dagger was raised above her head.

With quick reflexes, Diana caught the descending hand with both hands, twisted her body away from her attacker, and brought her attacker's arm over her shoulder. The mixed sounds of a bone cracking, a sharp cry, and the dagger clattering to the stone floor confirmed that she had disarmed her attacker.

Still holding on to the injured attacker's wrist, Diana turned back around to confront her, but she was blind-sided by a punch to her cheek. Diana winced as the pain reeled through the rest of her head, but she stood her ground. Her eyes were slightly blurred and she only caught a glimpse of a woman with blonde hair holding her arm as she ran off. It took a moment for her eyesight to readjust. Diana was still holding her cheek when Clark returned.

He had returned with a couple of flutes of champagne. As soon as he saw the look on Diana's face, he knew something had happened. Dropping the flutes, he rushed to her side. With one hand on her shoulder and the other gently touching her chin, he asked, "What happened?"

"Someone just tried to kill me," she replied with a calm voice that had a trace of anger behind it. "But I was able to fend off my attacker."

Immediately, Clark snapped to full alert, scanning the immediate area for an attacker and finding no one. Looking back at Diana, he continued, "Are you hurt?" Diana answered with a small shake of her head. "I should have not have left you. I should have known better. Let's get back inside."

"Wait," Diana said. She pressed a hand to his chest. She was amazed that she could feel his heart beating furiously. "She dropped her dagger there." Removing her hand from his well muscled chest, she pointed to the ground a few feet away from her.

"She? Well, that is a new revelation." Almost as an afterthought, Clark added, "How did she drop it?"

"Where I grew up, we were taught how to defend ourselves," she explained matter-of-factly. "My mother insisted that I received the training that her guards had."

Diana did not cease to surprise him. Still scanning the area, Clark bent down and used the handkerchief from his breast pocket to pick up the dagger. As he wrapped it with the handkerchief, he was careful not to touch it with his fingers, and placed it inside his jacket.

"What are you doing?" Diana asked inquisitively.

"I'm taking this back with me to headquarters. It hasn't been approved yet by Metro or Scotland Yard, but there is a new way of gathering evidence against criminals. I'll explain how it works but first we need to get you out of here." Placing his hand behind the small of her back, he escorted her back into the ballroom.

They had just stepped foot into the entryway when Bruce approached. "There you are. I was just……what the hell happened?!" he demanded as his fuming eyes flashed from Diana to Clark.

Glancing at Diana, Clark was now able to see her clearly. Like Bruce, he was horrified at the slight bruise on her cheek. With a rigid stance, he turned his attention back to Bruce. "Di…Ms. Prince was attacked again. You'll get an explanation of what transpired, but at this moment, I suggest we depart immediately to get her to a more secure location. My instincts tell me that even with a crowd of people around us, we must leave. She is still in danger, and Lord Luthor has something to do with it."

With a stiff nod, Bruce conceded. "Very well. But as soon as we get in my carriage, I want answers."

"Bruce, it wasn't the Inspector's fault. I asked him to fetch me a drink," Diana interceded.

Without saying another word, Bruce took over placing his hand on Diana's back. With both men flanking her, their hurried steps attracted some curious glances. They retrieved their cloaks and exited the grand double doors.

The host of the party watched as the trio left his mansion. One would not guess that behind the unwavering and relaxed smile fixed on his face, he was enraged that his plans did not proceed accordingly. Two birds were to be killed with one stone tonight - the murder of the daughter of a Contessa, who happened to be the first cousin of the King of Greece, and the fall of an old nemesis. He was not a happy man, indeed. And someone was going to pay dearly.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 (Dnkstar)

"How…could…this …happen?!?" he annunciated each word one-by-one, with a hiss. "How could you allow this to happen?!? He glared back and forth between the sisters.

"Please, sir--- can't you see she's been injured? You weren't there; it wasn't her fault. There was no way we could know---"

"Shut up, you stupid cow!" he snarled at Hope's attempts to defend her sister.

"If my plans fall apart tonight because of her bungling, whatever injury she 's incurred so far will be nothing compared to what I'll have done to her!! Now, I've sent Wembley for Bellows; you and he are to follow their carriage, overtake them, and put an end to those three, and their meddling once and for all! If you fail this time, I promise you, she will suffer the consequences! NOW…GO!!!"

Hope's eyes narrowed in thinly-veiled anger, but one look in her beloved sister's direction was all that it took to convince her of what she had to do. Within mere moments, she and the aforementioned "Bellows" were racing at a frightening speed down the side of the steep hillside, in pursuit of Lord Wayne's carriage. Hope sat stone-faced, at the opposite end from Bellows, trying vainly to avoid any sort of contact with him. The carriage lurched again, and Bellows leered in Hope's direction; lowering his eyes appreciatively to her jostling form, and said in a voice heavy with drink and lust:

"Aye love, what says you-n-me (after we's done wit' our li'l errand) goes and 'ave's ourselves a little drink and a little lovin' down by my place at the 'Golden Boar'. Nothin' likes a little blood 'ere an' there to get a man's…juices… up and runnin', eh?"

Hope grimaced in disgust. She wasn't sure which revolted her more about this man--- his lack of regular hygiene (evident from the stench of body-odour rolling off from him in noxious waves), his penchant for drinking himself into a stupor, or his lust for blood-- among his obvious lusts for…other…things. In fact, the only thing she could say in Mr. Bellows' favour was that he excelled at what he did. Unfortunately, what he "did" was commit cold-blooded murder! And Hope was truly sick of it. All of it. Lex. The endless killings. Her sister's insanity. Everything. She just wanted all of it to end. And most of all- for all that he'd done to her, to Mercy, and to countless others- Hope wanted Lex Luthor to pay! And pay, he would! For tonight, Lex Luthor's empire of evil would end…and she would be there to see it--- not just see it, but to contribute to his downfall as well! That is- she thought, suddenly rather woefully- if she could just manage to keep herself and Mercy alive long enough to bring her plan to fruition. Hope heaved a heavy-hearted sigh at the thought of her poor sister's perilous situation. Although they could not be more different from the outside, anyone who knew the pair could see that no two sisters could have been any closer. Mercy was a tall blonde with creamy skin, ice-blue eyes, and sharp, angular features. Hope, on the other hand, was a dark- skinned beauty of African descent. And contrary to her sister, Hope's features were rounder and more feminine, with large brown eyes, pouty lips, and fuller bosom and hips. Neither sister had ever known who their biological parents were, since it was the habit of the mysterious Bana- Mighdall Amazons to go on raiding parties, and either make forced sires of their male captives, or (as in Hope's and Mercy's cases) to steal babies outright, in order to maintain their tribe's population. So, it was, since infancy, that Hope and Mercy had been brought up as sisters; and like true sisters, they were virtually inseparable. In the spring of their fourteenth year, (as was the custom of their tribe) Hope and Mercy were taken out to participate in their first raid. Things had gone horribly awry, however, and the two young girls had found themselves unexpectedly and unintentionally abandoned in the desert's harsh environment. "Luckily" for them, Lex happened to come upon the hapless girls while out on a hunting expedition. He "rescued" them, took them in, and recruited their unusual services as mercenaries in a variety of creative ways. They became his servants, spies, bodyguards, and (when the need arose) his hired assailants. In return, they were given the best of everything that the considerable Luthor fortune could buy: food, clothing, education, etc…- they needed only name it and it was theirs. But Lex's "rewards" came with a terrible price. Hope shuddered with a combination of horror and revulsion as she thought of the many nights in Lex's private chambers when she and Mercy were forced to participate in Lex's nightmarishly humiliating and torturous demonstrations of the depths of his "love" for them. For her part, Hope became increasingly bitter towards Lex, and their seemingly hopeless situation. But as the years passed, Mercy fell more and more under his lordship's thrall; and instead of seeing him as their tormentor, she began to see him as their savior. Worst of all (as far as Hope could see) she'd actually become enamored of the monster- and she was willing to do literally anything to prove her love for him! The result was the terrible change that Mercy had undergone; from a noble, young Amazon warrior to a murderous lunatic! And for that, Hope vowed, Lex Luthor would pay!

Suddenly, the coach lurched again and Hope saw just the opportunity she was looking for: As the coach slowed to aright itself against the rain-soaked road, she engaged her lightning-fast reflexes to open the coach's door and with a mighty thrust, kicked the dozing Bellows out of the cab; and over the steep embankment below them. "I must make this look as real as possible." she thought to her self, as she yelled out to the driver---"Driver, stop the carriage! Stop immediately! Mr. Bellows had fallen out! Oh, help, help!!"

The driver did as demanded and stopped the coach as soon as he safely could. Hope jumped out, and ran with all speed, to where Bellows had fallen. From somewhere below her, she could hear his loud curses.

"What's this?! What the bloody 'ell's goin' on 'ere?! Somebody up there? A little 'elp 'ere, then; me ruddy 'ead's bleedin'! 'Ello? 'Ello Anyone there---?"

"Well, the drunken buffoon still lives, it seems---", she thought, as she breathed a sigh of relief. Revolting as she found the man, she didn't want another human life on her conscience. She was through with all the violence and killing. "No," she amended herself. "I'll be through with the killing once I 'm through with Lex Luthor!"

She hurried back to the carriage to further her "performance": "Driver, He's alive! I can hear him, but it's far to dark to see him. We'll just have to come back for him later, I fear. If we do not get to Lord Wayne 's carriage in time to carry out Mr. Luthor's instructions, we'll be far worse off than he!"

The driver, with a sudden look of fear on his face, muttered in agreement, and within seconds they were speeding off again. "Good," she thought to herself, and sent up a prayer to her native gods that things would continue to proceed her way. After about another two hours' travel, they'd reached London, still a good several minutes behind Lord Wayne's party. Some blocks away from Scotland Yard, she demanded that the driver let her out so that she could walk to her destination.

"But what about ye return trip, lassie? This weather ain't a'gonna let up anytime soon I'll wager." he said, with a look of concern lining his already craggy features. To this, she'd already prepared a response: "I'll call for a carriage when I've finished this 'errand'. It wouldn't do for us to fail Mr. Luthor, tonight of all nights!" She gave him a pointed look. Even in the uneven light of the street lamps, she could see his face grow paler by a shade. "In the meantime, I'd suggest that you go back and see to our unfortunate Mr. Bellows."

Once again, he nodded in agreement, and was off in an instant, to his next destination.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 (Dnkstar)

In another fifteen minutes, she was in the inspector's office and trying vainly to explain everything what she knew. Although, she's attempted for a fourth time to explain what she knew of Lex's hideous plot to the assembled party; still, they kept plying her with more and more questions…Hope sat down and held her head in frustration."…And I'm telling you, Lord Wayne, I've already told you everything!! Mr. Luthor has set plans in place to create an international intrigue. He planned to have Miss Prince murdered; and that he employed my sister's services to that end. He plans to start a war, and put himself on the Greek throne! And that's only the beginning of his scheme! If he succeeds- many, many innocent people will die! Why do you all insist on standing here and talking when we should be setting about stopping him?!"

"Why should we believe you when you've just admitted to being a co-conspirator in a plot to kill my fiancée? How do we know this isn't some form of a trick as well?"

"Pleeeaassseee," she wailed in frustration. "He's holding my sister hostage. If we don't get to him soon, there's no telling what---"

"Your sister. Hhh." Lord Wayne retorted. "And would this be the same sister who only hours ago did this to my fiancée?" he asked, motioning to the dark and swollen area on Diana's otherwise beautiful face.

"You don't understand---" Hope's voice once again, took on a pleading tone. "It's not her fault. It's what he…that…that… monster did to her! He bewitched her… he changed her into someone I don't even know anymore! He's destroyed her body, mind, and soul. And if we don't stop him tonight, he's going to take her very life as well!"

At that, Diana stood up from her own chair, crossed the room, and put a comforting arm around the younger woman's waist. Suddenly feeling very weak, Hope nearly collapsed into Diana's arms. She struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to overtake her at any second.

"It's obvious to me," said the inspector (emerging from the corner where he'd stood until now) "that this girl has come to us voluntarily, and at great personal risk to both herself, and her sister to give us this information. I'd think we'd be totally remiss in not, at least, acting on it."

"Agreed," said the captain. "We'll send up a good number of men and see to it that Mr. Luthor---"

"No, don't---!" Hope interrupted him. "You don't know Lex Luthor like I do. The less people who know, the better. His power is far-reaching, and his spies could be lurking anywhere---including here, in Scotland Yard itself."

"Preposterous," huffed the captain. "Why this place is as secure as Her Majesty's very chambers. There isn't a soul in this place that I wouldn't trust with my very life."

Just then, a knock on the door startled everyone from their hushed conversation.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Olsen. Come in and shut the door behind you. Here's what I want from you, lad: Take this knife and make sure that it's safely locked away in the vault. We'll have someone run those fingerprint tests tomorrow. Then, you're to gather a few more of our best men, and accompany these gentlemen up to Lord Luthor's manor in the hills. We have quite a few questions to ask his lordship---"

"Yes, sir."

"And Olsen---? Don't tell anyone else of our doings here tonight. It's best we keep this just amongst ourselves until all this business is sorted out."

"Yes, sir." the younger man responded, as he gave a rushed nod of the head, and showed himself out; cautiously closing the door behind him.

"Captain," Lord Wayne inclined his head inquisitively in the captain's direction, "You mentioned some 'tests'. What tests were you referring to?"

"Ahhh, we've got some newfangled 'technologies' in here. There are people who swear that you can tell who last handled an object, based on the handprints they've left behind. No two people have the same fingerprints, you see--- I never took much stock in all of it myself, but I must admit there does seem to be something to all of it, after all. Although from what this young lady says, it would appear that her sister is the likely culprit."

Hope winced at his words.

Fascinating---", said the earl, his steely eyes glinting like a child with a new toy.

"Well, we should be making arrangements for you gents to be heading up now. I should tell you, sir, that I'm not at all comfortable with sending you to Lord Luthor's manor. If things should get nasty, sir---"

"You needn't worry about me, Captain. I can most certainly handle myself if things should get 'nasty', as you say."

The captain looked at the earl with some degree of admiration. "Yes, sir. I do believe you could. Very well, we should be ready to get you lads going as soon as Olsen gets back."

"I'm going too---". Diana stood up from where she was stooped, at Hope's side.

"---As am I.", Hope chimed in.

"Now see here, his lordship is one thing, he's a man; but I'll not allow some fragile women to be put in potential danger---"

"This man had plans in place to have me murdered! I demand the right to confront him!!"

"---And he is holding my sister hostage. If anything should happen to her, I'll never forgive---"

"It's alright, Captain. I'll personally take responsibility for these ladies. Besides", he added with a slightly bemused smile, "I'd say both of these ladies have proven they're more than capable of taking care of themselves, as well!"

"Very well", sighed the captain. "I suppose that's it, then. I wonder what's keeping Olsen-"

P.C. Olsen was nothing, if not an efficient man. After all, it was his efficiency that got him to the position that he was in at the Scotland Yard. And it was the same sense of efficiency that got him noticed by Lex Luthor, some time earlier, during that whole messy Blue Fields affair. Due to some bungling on another's part, Kent had nearly stumbled onto the truth about what had really happened to those street sellers. But with some very creative manipulation of the evidence in the case, James had seen to it that some poor, addle-brained drunkard was convicted and hanged for those crimes. It wouldn't have done for the illustrious Mr. Luthor to have been connected, in any way, to those deaths. After all, that's the sort of thing Lex Luthor paid him so well to take care of. And so it was with the knife in this case. He was going to make very, very sure that, that unfortunate, little piece of evidence would never see the light of day again! After deftly dispensing with that little problem, he carefully checked the outer offices to be sure no one would see, and quietly made his way to the room that held the telegraph machine. He quickly fired off a cable to the Luthor manor, warning his employer of the Wayne party's escape, Hope's betrayal, and the captain's dispatch of an entourage coming to pay a "visit". And he added as a post-script that he was to be included in that entourage, should Luthor need him to carry out any last minute "instructions" upon their arrival. Then, he headed set about to fetching the rest of the officers needed for their trip. Finally, the other officers in tow, he returned to the captain, Kent, and their group.

"Damnation, Olsen. Where have you been?" thundered Captain White.

"Sorry, sir. It took a few minutes to carry out all your instructions; but you needn't worry, sir. I've seen to it that everything has been properly taken care of. And P.C. James Olsen thought to himself with a wicked smile: "You may be sure sir-everything has been taken care of."

Lex Luthor wandered about through his remaining guests, a smile fixed solidly to his face. He was his usual witty, charming, and debonair self. No one there could have suspected that his mind was far from the festivities. He pretended to be listening to yet another one of Oliver Queen's droll jokes, when Wembley crossed the floor and accosted him, an odd expression on his face:

"Sir, a cable has just arrived in your office. I really think you should see this. NOW."

Luthor glared a warning in Mr. Wembley's direction. He would pay for his sub ordinance. Of course, that was before Lord Luthor actually read the cable. Then, all thoughts of Wembley were promptly forgotten, in light of "more pressing issues". With smile still fixed to his face, Luthor excused himself, and headed hastily upstairs. Once out of sight of his guests, however, all vestiges of the "charming and debonair" Luthor were gone. He became like an enraged bull! He rampaged about the upper levels, shouting, and throwing any objects in his path. Finally, he reached his private quarters, red-faced, and wild with rage!

"What in the bloody HELL is the meaning of this!?!" he shrieked as he crossed the floor to the corner, where the injured Mercy lay.

"Wha--what?" Mercy looked up, from her haze of pain and confusion.

"This!! I gave you wenches EVERYTHING!!… I gave you MY LOVE! And THIS is  
how you REPPPAYYY MEEE?!?"

"Lex...Mr. Luthor, I don't know what you're---"

"Gaaahhhh!!!" he roared. "You DARE to look me in the face and LIIIEE to me about this?!?!" he waved the cable, then tore it up and threw it into her face. "I'm telling you right now--- you and that TRAITOROUS WHORRING sister of yours are as good as DEAD!! Unfortunately, I don't have time to 'deal' with you now; but this is not finished! You, of ALL people, should KNOW what happens to people who BETRAY ME!!!"

With that, he hit Mercy with the back of his hand, with a horrific thwapping sound that rang throughout the room; sending blood flying from the nose and mouth of the already suffering young woman. "Luckily for me, it just so happens that I have one last 'ace' up my sleeve that the inspector, and the rest of those dolts, could never EVEN CONCEIEVE of-much LESS see coming!! Wembley, see to it that our 'dear' Mercy is secured until the Lord Wayne, the inspector, and the rest of their party return. Then I think we should arrange a 'very special reunion' for Miss Graves and her sister. Carry on, my good man . I have the rest of my guests to see to… for now. And as for you, my love: I shall return later for you …AND YOUR SISTER."

After Lord Luthor's departure- Wembley, with a cold smile, strode to where the ailing Mercy lay. He brutally yanked her injured arm behind her, until she cried out in agony. Then he grabbed for her other, and secured them tightly behind her back, with a strong piece of abrasive hemp, that bit into her flesh with each movement of her hands. He then turned, watered down the fire in the fireplace (the room's only source of heat and light) and in a flash, he too was gone.

Mercy let out a gasp of despair as she heard him insert the key, and bolt the lock behind him. She raised her head, and looked around to the room that had suddenly become a cold, dark prison to her---and quite possibly her execution chamber. Through the haze of madness that had for so long surrounded her, and through the blinding pain that threatened to consume her, Mercy had found one pinprick of light-one shining moment of clarity. For quite possibly the first time in her life, she saw all that she have been before, and that that she had become because of that man, LEX LUTHOR. She hadn't started out this way, but after all that she had done to serve him-to please him, she had tainted, nay damned her very soul. It was a thought that shook her to her very core. And after that, this was all that was to become of her? She raised her eyes heavenward, and prayed to her gods for some small amount of forgiveness-and if at all possible- for the opportunity of redemption. At whatever cost to her. And what of Hope? Where was she? Was she safe? At the ironic sound of her sister's name, she let out a caustic, sardonic laugh. But just as suddenly, there came the warm feel of tears on her face; something that Mercy Graves had not felt in a lifetime. Indeed, where was hope at all?


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 (Hellacre)

Diana looked across at Inspector Kent and Hope as their carriage rumbled out of central London northwest towards the Luthor manor. She was sitting opposite him, next to Lord Wayne, who had a rather possessive arm around her shoulders. Captain White had sanctioned PCs Olsen, Ross, Grayson and a Sergeant by the name of Jones to accompany them. These men had worked with Kent on the Blue Fields affair and were loyal and trustworthy, the Captain had insisted; they were now following behind in a smaller equipage.

The rain had stopped and the clouds had dispersed, leaving a cold, silver moon in the night sky. The streets of London were wet and muddy after the downpour and there was a biting chill in the air. Kent had his glasses back on and was priming the pistols he had taken up from headquarters with a grim look in the pale light of the lamps from the carriage.

Diana asked, "Do you expect to use them?"

He looked up. "One hopes never to have to use firearms unless if pushed."

Wayne queried, "Ever killed anyone Kent?"

Kent replied coolly, "Once, and I have resolved to try to never kill again. There are ways to maim without taking a man's life. I am a believer in letting the law decide on a man's fate, not my arbitrary firing of a gun."

"That's a rather naive view of the world. The law can be an ass at times. Justice is not always mete out. Look at Luthor. He has his tentacles in parts of the judiciary; someone like him would be hard to bring to trial..."

"So, what do you propose? We take a shot at him from behind?"

Wayne shrugged. "I am not advocating anything but if Luthor gets taken out you won't find anyone in England mourning him too much..."

"My lord, I have rules to follow. It is my duty to protect and serve not pass out death and judgement. My Captain suggests we wait until the guests have left the mansion and then go in. Luthor will not be able to deny us entry as we have just means to search the mansion and question him. We have the element of surprise on our side. I do not believe he would expect us to descend en masse at this time of night."

Hope said quietly, "There is a secret passageway underground...it was used by the smugglers during the Napoleonic Wars...it leads straight into the cellar."

Kent looked pensive. "That may give us the advantage...If we let Jones lead the constables to the front...we four can go in from beneath."

Hope looked eager. "It'll keep Luthor distracted whilst we find Mercy...I know every nook and cranny of the mansion...Luthor has evidence of his dealings in a strongbox in his bedroom...if you can get to that, you'll have evidence to hang him ten times over..."

Wayne remarked, "That sounds plausible. How well trained are those men of yours, Kent?"

"Jones is very experienced. The constables are brave and loyal. They can handle themselves very well."

The Earl nodded. "Good. Are they all armed?"

"They have cutlasses."

Wayne moved his arm from around Diana and drew a long case from under the seating. He opened it and produced a Japanese saber. Hope looked at it with the appreciative eye of a connoisseur. "Very nice, Lord Wayne."

"Thank you, Miss Graves. You can carry this, since you are so adept with it." He threw her a dagger that sat with the sword.

Diana folded her arms. "What do I get?"

Her betrothed looked at her amused. "You want something?"

"I think it would be reasonable to defend myself."

He gave her a gold top ebony cane that he had carried to compliment his coat tails and hat earlier that night. Diana looked at it unimpressed. "So, I get a stick?"

He pulled the gold head from the body and out came a light weight rapier. "Is this better?"

She took it with an impressed look. "You are full of surprises, Bruce."

Kent cocked his head at her. "Don't tell me. You know how to handle a blade as well?"

She put the blade back in the cane. "I was taught to fence from the age of six. It was part of my education as was learning my Latin and French vocabulary."

The Earl smiled. "As was mine."

He and Diana began to exchange memories of their different fencing masters; and words like forte on forte, feinting in high carte and thrusting in a low tierce were exchanged, as Kent look at them gravely. Hope, who knew what they were talking about smiled, but then turned to look at Kent's profile. He had gone quiet and had put his pistols away in his jacket pocket and was looking outside. She could not see his entire expression but she sensed his feeling of suddenly not belonging. It was something she felt for a lot of her own life.

She frowned and deliberately asked loudly, "Can you fence, Inspector?''

Diana suddenly stopped mid sentence and looked over at them.

"Me? No. My childhood education was a bit more, er, practical," he shrugged.

Diana looked apologetic. "I am sorry, Cla...I mean, Inspector...It was rude of us to go on and on."

Wayne drawled, "I'm sure Kent didn't take any offense, my dear. He was probably bringing in the harvest when you learned to parry and riposte..."

Diana frowned at Wayne's obvious dig at Kent's background. She was saved giving a cutting reply by a voice from above in the box. "My lord! We're approaching the mansion."

The Earl looked out the window. Sure enough in the distance he could see the winding road leading up to the mansion. He halted the carriage. The wagon pulling the policemen stopped too. They all alighted onto the road. The Earl instructed the drivers of the carriage and wagon to take a side lane and conceal themselves.

"We should walk from here."

Kent agreed. He beckoned the Sergeant and constables to him. "Men, we have come up with a plan. Jones will take you three to the house, whilst Hope here will lead us via a secret way..."

Olsen spoke up. "I don't know, sir. Is that wise? We shouldn't split the group. And what is that?" He pointed to the Earl's sword almost with a hint of irritation." They are civilians not police. They should not be allowed to go off..."

Kent interrupted, "They will be with me. I will take full responsibility for them."

Jones said, "That's good enough for me. The Inspector's always been careful and it isn't your place to question him, Olsen. Pipe down and get yourself ready with Grayson and Ross."

Olsen said rigidly, "Yes, sir."

Jones looked at Kent. "You'll be wanting us to keep Luthor occupied then?"

"Yes." He looked at his watch. "It is near three am. We need to synchronize ourselves. Miss Graves, how long will it take to traverse the passageway?"

Hope replied, "Fifteen minutes."

"Right. I think you men should go in at three thirty. We'll enter the house then."

"Right you are, sir."

"Take no unnecessary risks, John," he warned as the man joined the others; he waved in the affirmative and the group began their way up the side of the hill to wait in the bushes until the time came to move in.

Hope indicated a diverse path that seemed to lead down into a ravine. The way was muddy and slippery and the women's hems and shoes were soon caked with mud. They soon came to a thicket that seemed to cover the side of a knoll. Hope pushed aside the branches and a wooden door covered in ivy appeared. She turned the iron handle and darkness opened like an abyss before them. Hope reached instinctively and produced a lantern. She had matches in her pocket and was able to light their way.

It was half past three when the Sergeant led his men to the front door of the Luthor mansion. As expected, the guests had all gone home and the mansion looked quiet and most of its windows darkened. He knocked loudly. A burly man on night patrol of the grounds appeared with a lantern. "Halt! Who goes there?"

Jones turned and looked at the man. "The London Metropolitan Police."

The man looked suspiciously at them. "How did you get up here?"

"Never you mind. We are here on the Queen's business. So keep your nose out of it!" snapped Olsen.

Jones gave Olsen a warning look. He said calmly, "Let us do our jobs, man. Keep out of the way."

The man stepped back and grumbled something unintelligible. Jones continued to rap on the door; it took a few minutes before a sleepy looking porter appeared.

The man stiffened when he saw the police uniforms. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

"We would like a word with your master."

"But, but Lord Luthor is asleep..."

"My good man, we are from the Met and we are here to ask the Earl a few questions. You can either call him or we will enter this house at will...''

The porter bowed in alarm. "Y-yes...sir...Come in...I'll get the Earl..."

The porter turned up a lamp on the wall of the foyer and let the men assemble in the middle of the room. "Wait here, please. Lord Luthor will be here soon..."

The porter vanished up the staircase. Jones folded his arms and whistled softly. He had visited the house before with Kent. Ross and Grayson had not. They looked at the ceiling and mirror and flooring with awe. A full five minutes passed and no one seemed to be coming down.

"What the devil is taking them so long?"

Olsen said, "Maybe Luthor is fleeing."

"Why should he flee?"

"If he has that woman's sister imprisoned or even if she is dead...he'll be implicated...or...he could be trying to hide evidence..."

Jones scowled. "We'll see about that! Ross, come with me. Olsen, you and Grayson stay here."

Olsen nodded and watched his two colleagues go up. He looked at Grayson and shrugged, "Well, it's just you and me."

Grayson tapped his feet impatiently. "I don't like this, James. Someting ain't right. It's too quiet. There was a bleeding ball here...you telling me all the servants have gone to bed? Nah, I don't think so. I think we should go with the Sarge..."

Olsen said crossly, "He told us to wait here. And so we will!"

''You can kick your heels here...I'm going." Grayson made a move towards the stairs.

"Dick!"

Grayson turned. "What?"

The blade of a cutlass gleamed and embedded itself in Grayson's chest. Grayson's eyes bulged in shock. He clutched at the cutlass and blood stained his lips. Olsen thrust it deeper. Grayson slithered to the floor, his breath gurgling until it came to a stop. Olsen pulled the cutlass out and wiped the blood on his dead colleague's coat.

He smiled and went up the stairs.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 (Hellacre)

Meanwhile Hope had led the trio into the cellar. They moved steadily up the steps and came out into the vast kitchen. Here she extinguished the lantern. The kitchen was dark and silent. Through one of the large windows they could see a figure moving in the gardens.

Hope indicated, "Luthor's guard. Several of them patrol the grounds. Keep down."

They moved towards the doorway. The kitchen led onto a short corridor that branched to the large dinning room and morning room which Hope led them through. She had hopes of leading them up a narrow staircase, that was for servant use, and which led to the rooms for the servants at the back of the mansion. Here, they could navigate their way towards Luthor's room with little interruption as most of the domestic staff were abed.

Lord Wayne asked, "Are there many guards inside?"

"Luthor has relied on Mercy and me these last few years. He keeps the grounds well patrolled and has a couple of night porters and footmen inside. He knows no one would dare breach his domain unless they want to feel his wrath. There may also be the odd servant up and about. Wembley, the butler, is always hovering near Luthor..."

They headed out and up the dimly lit staircase. They hurried down the corridor to go towards the gallery that led to Luthor's apartments. They came across a footman, sitting at the end of the gallery half dozing on himself. They kept back in the shadows whilst Hope dealt with him.

She put a seductive smile on her face and sauntered out towards him. He jumped to his feet when she said sharply, "Hello Tom."

He coloured and bowed. "M-miss Graves. You are up late."

"I know. Have you seen my sister?"

"I saw her hours ago during the ball...but not for a long time...I have been on this side of the manor."

"Ah yes, I see. If you see her I need you to tell her something for me..."

"What is it?"

She beckoned with her finger and a sweet smile for him to come closer. He looked nervous, but knowing her temper did not want to offend her by hesitating. When he did, she elbowed him in the jaw. He collapsed at her feet.

Hope began to drag the footman to a cupboard. Kent went over to her and helped her shoved him up against a stack of mops and brooms. Wayne conceded to Diana. "She's good."

They traversed the gallery and emerged onto a large landing and the main staircase. They heard voices and looked down at what was the main salon. Standing outside the door was Luthor, his butler, PC Olsen and Sergeant Jones. Luthor was furious and declaring that he was fed up of the police persecuting him. Jones appeared to be trying to reason with him whilst Olsen stood behind him.

Hope hissed for them to move. "Time is of the essence! Let's go!"

They hurried on and headed for Luthor's apartments. Hope burst into the room and halted. The room was pitch black. Hope went to brackets on the wall and turned up the oil lamps. Light illuminated the room. She gasped. Lying on the ground was her sister Mercy; her hands were bound and her lips caked with blood. In a corner was an armchair. In it sat the uniformed constable known as Ross.

Hope ran to Mercy, who was blue-lipped and groaning, "T-Trap...It's a trap..."

Kent rushed towards Ross. "Peter?" He came around and shook the constable's shoulder. The young man slumped forward and fell to the floor. A dagger protruded from his back.

Diana smothered a cry of dismay. Wayne shoved her to the door. "Come on! Move! He knew we were coming! Kent, stop dawdling, man! Come on!"

The Inspector ignored him and went to help Hope as she undid Mercy's bonds and helped her to her feet. Mercy's body was frozen and her legs were like jelly; she pleaded with her sister to leave her. Kent hoisted her up over his shoulders. Hope gave him a look of gratitude and Diana one of admiration.

Wayne asked, "Can you manage Kent?"

He said dryly, "Like bringing home the harvest!"

They ran out of the room, headed down the corridor and down the stairs, but coming to a halt at the landing. Standing there opposite them and blocking their exit was Luthor with Wembley, half a dozen henchmen all armed with clubs or knives, and PC Olsen.

Luthor folded his arms. "Well, well, what have we here? Intruders in my own home. I am in my right to defend myself aren't I, Olsen?"

The constable smiled and tapped the blade of his cutlass against his palm. "You certainly are."

Kent looked at him in shock. "James, what are you doing?!"

Luthor looked at him with a pitiful smile. "I'd say that was obvious, Kent. Olsen is doing what's best for him."

"You took an oath," the Inspector gritted, as he gently put Mercy down. Mercy leaned heavily against her sister.

Olsen said darkly, "I have worked everyday of my life for the Met since I was twenty. And does White recommend me for any promotion? No. He gives it to you. Mr. Goody, never take a bribe, go by the book Kent! Who gives us more work because he is too noble to kill the worthless in society! No, we must bring them in and let them face the law! I'm sick of hunting murderers and rapists and thieves so you can sleep with a clean conscience at night. Lord Luthor has given me the chance to hand out my own kind justice and my reward isn't just a pat on the back."

Luthor smiled smugly, "See, Kent, pay someone well enough and he'll kill his own brother but as in this case, colleagues."

Kent looked at Olsen in disgust. "You killed Peter? Where are Dick and John?"

Olsen grinned fiendishly. "Dick and John are indisposed."

Luthor nodded to the landing below. "Sergeant Jones had an accident whilst breaking into my house."

All eyes looked down. Lying on the ground at the bottom of the stairs was the twisted body of the Sergeant.

The Earl of Gotham pointed his blade at Luthor. "You will not get away with this."

"But I think I will. When I am finished with you," his eyes lingered on the women, "some of you will wish you had never been born and the others...well...you'll either be dead or facing criminal charges for trying to kill innocent Lord Luthor, as Olsen here will testify. Our distraught James will tell his Captain that Kent and Wayne went a bit crazy with the need to make me pay, it being so obvious that both are enamoured with the irresistible Miss Prince". His eyes moved maliciously from Kent's mortified face to Wayne's stony one, coming to rest on Diana's strickened blush. He chuckled and added," And whilst Ross, Grayson and Jones tried to stop them, they got hacked down. Poor fellows, "I'll see to it that their families are taken care of and they are buried like heroes...Now, I'd advise you to surrender, as you can see you are out numbered..."

Diana pulled out her rapier from its sheath. Kent drew out his pistols. Hope brandished her knife. Mercy winced as she straightened up and looked at the cane in Diana's hand. "I'll take that," she coughed.

Lord Wayne rasped, "Outnumbered maybe but not outdone ."

Luthor stepped aside. He looked at his men and gestured scathingly, "Get them!"


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 (ImFanci)

As Luthor's six henchmen started towards Clark, Diana, Bruce, Hope and Mercy, another half dozen of Luthor's men seemingly appeared out of nowhere, each brandishing cutlasses. The outnumbered group still showed no fear or hesitation - just more determination.

"It looks like this will take a little longer to defeat Luthor than I expected," quipped Diana. Her statement earned her small grins from the group, and a sudden onslaught from the now enraged henchmen. This battle spread the group throughout the grand foyer.

An annoyed Olsen stepped forward, but Luthor held him back, "No need to engage yourself right now." Luthor stood confidently with his arms crossed as he was thrilled to finally see his plans come to fruition.

The men with the cutlasses went straight to Bruce and Diana. The others with the clubs and knives approached Clark, Hope and Mercy. In their eyes, the women were easy targets – especially the wounded one.

Clark used one of his single-shot pistols to shoot one of the on-coming men in the leg, merely disabling but not killing him. Instinct told him that he would need the other pistol a little bit later. Dropping the now useless pistol and holstering the other, it was up to his strength and skills in hand to hand fighting to defeat the other armed attackers.

Hope was engaged in a dance with a greasy looking man who wielded a knife. She was confident that the skills she learned in wielding knives would see to her success. Mercy, though still in pain, was also skilled with using her left hand and had enough strength to defend herself with the cane against a bearded man with a club. If she was lucky, she would be able to crack his skull with the cane.

Diana charged at the two men approaching her while Bruce stood his ground. "Diana, wait!" Bruce called out, and watched as she raised her rapier against two opposing cutlasses. With the rest of the men surrounding him, Bruce skillfully used his saber against the other cutlasses.

Diana made quick work of disarming her two attackers, and injuring both enough that they could barely hold themselves up. With the rapier, she had stabbed one of the men's fighting arm and left thigh. She had also cut the other man's stomach deeply enough that even though the bleeding was mainly artificial, he was too shocked seeing his own blood all over his body to continue fighting her. Shaking her head, she looked around to see who she could assist.

Bruce appeared to be handling his opponents very well by himself. He was proving how skilled he was with a blade as he had only one opponent left while the others lay dead.

Clark was also handling himself rather well. He had somehow lost his glasses amidst the fighting. Diana noticed the unconscious men around him as he was fighting only one now.

Hope was wiping her bloody dagger on the shirt of the man she just killed. She looked up to see Mercy was about to collapse just after her opponent fell lifelessly to the floor. She rushed to catch her sister in an embrace. After a quick, wordless hug, Hope moved to Mercy's left side and lifter her arm to support her as they walked together to a more safe location.

Suddenly, Mercy's cry stopped them in their tracks. Her head was tilted back as her face was contorted with excruciating pain as Hope saw the end of a cutlass protrude from right below her chest. She turned her head back to see Olsen holding the cutlass and maliciously smiling at her. He slowly pulled the cutlass out to extend Mercy's torture and raised it to let Hope see that she was next to die.

But the blade never touched Hope. Instead, Olsen crumpled to the floor as Diana pulled the rapier from his side. Diana's aim was true, and Olsen lay dying on the floor, spitting out blood as he stupidly muttered, "I wasn't…supposed…to die…"

Hope quickly glanced at Diana in gratitude. Then, she turned her attention towards her dying sister. She cradled Mercy on the floor as she wept. Diana could only watch helplessly until she remembered who was responsible for all this.

All but two of Luthor's men remained standing. One was still engaged in a sword fight with Lord Wayne while the other was involved in a fist fight with Inspector Kent. Much to Luthor's dismay and anger, his men were bested by his enemies. It doesn't matter, he thought. I still have a weapon worthy of taking out the remaining survivors before they realize what struck them. Luthor saw Ms. Prince marching towards him with the bloody rapier in her hand and an unwavering glare directed at him.

"Wembley, hand me my revolver," Luthor demanded. "I'm going to take care of all of them myself once and for all."

Clark had just finished knocking out his last opponent. He turned to see Diana was heading towards Luthor. Hearing the cocking of a pistol, he looked in Luthor's direction. Clark raced towards Diana as he pulled out his other pistol and aimed it at Luthor. But he was too late. Luthor pulled the trigger just as Clark fired his pistol.

Clark's bullet found its way straight to Luthor's chest. A shocked Luthor looked at his bleeding chest, and collapsed to the ground. His cowardly servant, Wembley, ran off, seeing that his employer no longer needed his services.

The bullet from Luthor's revolver had struck Clark as he had tried to use his body to shield Diana from it, causing him to fall to his knees. The pain to his side was unlike any other he had experienced. His whole body suddenly hurt. He must have gone deaf but could have sworn he heard Diana call out his name.

Perhaps he did hear her correctly as he felt her arms around him, and he collapsed against her on the ground. He did not realize that she was whispering scathing remarks about his lack of sensibility while calling him different names of endearment. When his hearing came back, Clark looked up at Diana and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Agh! You're the one whose been shot," cried Diana.

"Diana, are you alright?" he repeated weakly.

"Yes, I'm fine, Clark. You didn't have to use yourself as a shield for me. You're not made of steel, you know," Diana said.

"If it meant that no harm came to you, I'd do it again," Clark professed. "I would die for you."

Those were his last words to Diana before he succumbed to the welcoming darkness that would temporarily take away the pain that coursed through him. Tears streamed down Diana's lovely face as she continued to hold him. She looked up in surprise as she felt a presence over her. "Bruce…"

Her fiancé had seen and heard the entire exchange. He bent down and gently touched her chin. "We'll get him to the hospital, and I'll make sure he gets the finest doctors to treat him," Bruce promised.

Diana could only nod in acknowledgement as she helped Bruce with the unconscious Inspector.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 (ImFanci)

Clark woke up to find himself laying in a bed. Looking around the stark, white room, he surmised that he was in a hospital. The dull ache to his side immediately reminded him that he had been shot. Closing his eyes, he was rubbing his forehead trying to clear his foggy memory when he heard someone enter his hospital room. He did not need to open his eyes to recognize the soft, yet sharp, intake of breath. He stopped what he was doing and opened his eyes again to drink in the sight before him.

Diana stood in the doorway with a smile on her face as she looked at the man who had almost died for her. A man she truly fell in love with. She was almost afraid that if she blinked, she would find that she was just imagining that he was finally awake.

"Clark…you're awake," was all she could manage to say. She walked over to the side of the bed and took his hand.

He looked down at her hand clasping his. A small wave of elation went through him as he realized that she cared about him. As much as he wanted his hand to remain where it was, it was inappropriate. He lifted his hand and pointed to the pitcher of water across the room. Clearing his throat, "May I trouble you for some water, please?"

"Oh, of course! I should've known you'd be thirsty. It's been two days since we brought you here." Diana fetched the water pitcher and poured a glass for him.

"Thank you." He took several grateful sips, then handed the almost empty glass back to her. "Two days? Really?"

After putting away the pitcher and glass, Diana took a seat in the chair that she had placed by his bed. Unbeknownst to Clark, she had been sitting in that chair for the last two days, except when she had to return home to get some rest, watching over him. "Yes, Bruce made sure you received the best medical attention that the doctors here could provide. You almost died…for me," she paused for a moment. "I am eternally grateful. Because of you, my life is no longer in danger."

"It was my duty to protect you," Clark simply replied and tore his eyes away from hers.

Diana quirked her head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember what you said to me? After Luthor shot you?"

"No." But he did remember. He remembered exactly what he said. She was still another man's fiancée and his embarrassment over revealing his feelings for her was something that he did not want her to pursue and he did not want to address. Clark looked back at her and was surprised to see her look of disappointment.

"What happened to Luthor?" he asked instead.

"He's dead. The shot you fired killed him," Diana answered. "Hope is fine, but her sister died. As promised, Captain White did not arrest Hope for her aid in revealing and taking down Lord Luthor. His wounded men were dully arrested. Bruce made sure that everything that happened at the Luthor mansion was recorded in a statement, especially the revelation that PC Olsen was a traitor. There was a funeral this morning for your fallen men. Your captain was very proud of their bravery, and is equally proud of you."

"Yes, my men were indeed the finest I've had the honor to work with."

Diana stood up and took a step towards him. "Clark, I…even though we've only known each other a week…I feel I must reveal my affections for you..."

"Diana, it's alright," he interrupted. "Any affection that you may have for me was stemmed by the gratitude you feel from my protection of you. I understand. I can imagine that Lord Wayne, too, is a very happy man now that he doesn't have to worry about your safety, Miss Prince. I'm sure you are both relieved to continue with your wedding plans."

"But Bruce and I are…"

"Thank you, again, Miss Prince, for visiting me. I wish you and your fiancé much happiness together."

He was rejecting her! She was so certain about his feelings for her. How could she have been so wrong? Feeling as if her heart was breaking into pieces but angry enough not to break down in tears, Diana quietly said, "Thank you, Inspector Kent, for your kind words. I wish you a swift recovery. Good bye." She turned and walked out of the room. It was only until she entered and sat in her carriage that she allowed the tears to fall.

For a long time, Clark just stared at the empty doorway. He kept telling himself it was the right decision to not prolong his torment by sending her away. He wished the torment had ended otherwise - if it goes away at all.

The next few days in the hospital were filled with the endless bustle of visitors. Many of his comrades, including Captain White, paid him a visit and congratulated him on solving another case. Lord Jay Garrick and his nephew, Wally, came to visit every day as soon as they heard that Clark was awake. Even Lord Oliver stopped by briefly to commend him. But there was only one visitor he wished to see that he knew was not coming back, and he was the only one to blame for it.

Clark was reading some papers when another visitor came into his room. Putting down the papers, he greeted cordially, "Lord Wayne. Do come in."

With his hands clasped behind his back, the still stoic Earl replied, "It is good to see that you are faring very well, Inspector Kent."

"Besides the doctors and nurses, I have you to thank for my care. You have been a generous benefactor for the treatment I have been given."

"Think nothing of it," Wayne said. "You're being discharged from the hospital today as I understand it."

"Yes, Dr. Barnes just signed off on the necessary papers to go home, but he won't release me back to duty for another few weeks."

"So I have been informed." Lord Wayne regarded him seriously. "I came by to personally thank you for a job well done. And to also thank you for saving Ms. Prince's life."

"I was merely doing my duty as an officer of the law, Lord Wayne," Clark simply said. "Any member of the London Metropolitan Police would have done the same thing."

"I highly doubt that any other officer would be willing to sacrifice his own life for another man's fiancée." The Earl could plainly see that the Inspector was not comfortable with this subject. He continued, "Don't worry, I am no longer upset with the turn of events surrounding your feelings towards Ms. Prince, and that of hers towards you."

"I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you. I have respected the appropriate rules of conduct and would never attempt to steal the affections of a woman betrothed to another man. As I said to Ms. Prince, I wish you both much happiness together." Clark hoped he sounded sincere enough to disparage Wayne from any thoughts of retaliation on his part.

Wayne looked at him with astonishment. With a slight uplift on the corner of his mouth and shake of his head, he said, "You don't know, do you?"

"I beg your pardon. What do I not know?" Clark asked.

"Miss Prince and I called off our engagement." The shocked look on Kent's face confirmed what Wayne just concluded. "Well, that certainly explains things." Wayne continued to study the warring expressions coming across the Inspector's face. Calling out for his butler who was standing outside the hospital room, "Alfred, bring in the Inspector's gift."

Alfred came into the room holding a new suit and a pair of boots. He carefully laid the suit on an empty chair and the boots on the floor, and silently exited the room.

"I had my tailor make a suit for you. Actually, I have a trunk full of custom-made suits as an appreciation for your outstanding work. We're about the same size, except that you have disadvantaged me with being an inch taller, so it was easy for him to get the correct measurements." Wayne raised his hand as Clark was about to protest. "It is the least I can do. Besides, I don't think you have anything suitable to wear when you leave the hospital, considering what you wore to arrest Lord Luthor was completely ruined."

"I can't thank you enough for your generosity, Lord Wayne," Clark acknowledged. "I will accept the suit you have here, but I cannot accept the other suits. It would be improper to accept to gifts from a patron. The implications could be very damaging."

"Your integrity is quite honorable. It is, however, a bit tiresome. It's just a gift. I've made arrangements for one of my carriages to drive you home or to anywhere you wish. The trunk will be there, whether you accept it or not." Lord Wayne started towards the door. He stopped at the doorway and turned around. "Diana is leaving this afternoon to return to Greece. Her ship sails in a couple of hours. She is a remarkable woman. You are a good man. Don't break her heart again."

The Earl left Clark to his conflicting thoughts and emotions. The glimmer of hope for happiness clashed with all the reasons why Diana would not accept him. After several minutes of contemplating all the possibilities, Clark made his decision. Even if she rejected him, the only thing he would lose would be his pride, as his heart was already lost to her.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 (ImFanci)

"Oh, Miss, I'm goin to miss ye something fierce!" cried Etta as Diana bent down to hug the woman who had been her companion for the last several weeks. They were standing by the docks. Diana's luggage had already been loaded on to the ship that was ready to set sail for warmer waters.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Etta. Thank you for everything." Holding her at arms length, Diana told Etta, "Perhaps I'll come back for a visit. Or some strange twist of fate brings me back to stay. Right now, I don't have any reason to."

"Pardon my boldness, but tha man was not smart to 'old on to ye." Diana had confided to Etta about Inspector Kent, and Etta thought him to be a complete idiot for a man who excelled at upholding truth and justice.

Giving Etta a sad smile, Diana replied, "It's alright, Etta. We just weren't destined for each other. I'll be fine." Looking over Etta's shoulder, Diana continued, "At least one of us found our soul mate. I'm very happy for you."

Etta agreed, "Yes, tha Mister Trevor is a fine man and I'm lucky to 'ave found 'im. Good luck to ye, Miss." With an encouraging smile, Etta finally turned away from her former employer and walked to the man waiting for her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied that a carriage just pulled up. Diana recognized the Earl of Gotham's Crest on the door. She quickly turned around to face the ship. Damn, Bruce! Why is he trying to convince me to stay, again? She started walking towards the boarding plank to avoid arguing with him.

She had admired the way he calmly handled her rejection of him for Clark, and for keeping his promise to have Clark treated by the finest doctors. But when Bruce insisted that she stay in London under his care after Clark dismissed her, she needed to return home to find some solace.

"Diana! Diana, wait!" She stilled at the voice calling her. She dared not turn around, fearing that her imagination had gotten the best of her. But her heart began to race in hope and excitement.

She sensed that the man who called out for her now stood only a foot away behind her. The gentle voice that followed only confirmed that she was not losing her head. "Diana. Please turn around." Unable to resist, she did as he asked, and looked up at the handsome face that had lately invaded her dreams.

"Inspector Kent. It's nice of you to send me off…" Diana did not get to finish what she was going to say.

Clark held her nape and waist as he kissed her – in front of a crowd of boarding passengers and working crew members. The audible gasps and murmurs were ignored by the kissing couple. For once in his life, he did not care about propriety. All he knew was that he felt like flying through the air without the aid of any machine man could ever invent.

Diana started to put her arm on his shoulder to bring him closer but he pulled away. Her lips were still tingling from the kiss. She opened her mouth to speak, but Clark interrupted her.

"Please hear me out. I'm sorry if I caused you any hurt or embarrassment the other day at the hospital, or even today." As Diana continued to look at him expectantly, Clark continued on, clasping both her hands in his. "You're an amazing woman, Diana. I've realized that my life would be empty without you. I'm not a wealthy man, but I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure you never go without, and I will work extremely hard to make you happy every day of your life. As I said before, I would gladly give my life for you."

"Clark, I..."

"I don't know the depth of your affection for me but I know you do care about me. I am truly, madly, deeply in love with you. I know we both come from two different worlds but you and I were meant for each other. You would make me the happiest man on earth if you accept my hand. Don't go. Say you'll stay and marry me." Clark was pouring out his heart and his pride. The longer she did not answer, the more nervous he became.

Slowly shaking her head, Diana answered with a smile, "You silly man. I don't think that even the gods of ancient Greece could change my heart's desires. I love you, too. And I want nothing more than to be with you the rest of my life." She gave him a quick kiss on his lips. "But I do have to board this ship…"

"Diana..." Clark began.

"…and I want you to come with me." Diana knew she caught him off guard. "You want to marry me, then you'll have to meet my mother first."

"Of course. Yes, I certainly have to meet your mother first. But I didn't pack…wait a minute. I do have a trunk. I'll be right back." With a wide grin, Clark went back to the carriage and instructed the driver and footman to bring the well packed trunk to the ship's loading area.

When he returned to Diana's side, she had just finished making arrangements with the ship's purser for an additional cabin and payment. Clark said, "When we return, I'll draw some of my savings to pay you back."

"Clark, you needn't worry about the cost of the voyage. Apparently, the Earl of Gotham had already reserved and paid a cabin in your name."

"Well, then, we should thank Lord Wayne for his generosity. Perhaps invite him to the wedding?"

"If you are in agreement, I think we should be married on Themyscira, instead. This way, we don't have to travel back to England in separate cabins." Diana's eyes held Clark's gaze with the promise of many tomorrows. Arm in arm, they boarded the ship. They stood together on the forward deck until the ship finally set sail. They looked out at the open sea as they held on to each other, eager to begin their lives together.

The End


End file.
